THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES #. ^^ ^ ^ -^y^^^-^-^V^ MEMOIRS THE LIFE AND MINISTRY REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, A.M. BY JOHN HOLLAND. AN INTRODUCTORY LETTER BY JAMES MONTGOMERY. ABRIDGED, WITH ADDITIONAL LETTERS AND REMINISCENCES. PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. Entered itccoiding to the Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by JAMES BLACKSTOCK, in the Clerk's Olnce of the District Court of the United States, for the South- ern District of New York. Right of publishing transferred to the American Tract Society. 7^" Ay/ The Memoir of Summerfiekl, whose name is embalmed in the hearts of the people of God, has hitherto been issued in a handsome octavo stereotype edition, to which, in 1846, "Additional Letters" and "Reminiscences" were added, which swelled the volume to a size beyond the reach of many who have wished to possess it. In the hope of ren dering an acceptable service to thousands of families, the proprietor of the work, in behalf of the surviving relatives of Summerfield, besides still issuing it entire in the larger size, is gratified to present it to the Christian public in the present form. This volume contains the Memoir by Mr. Holland, with the omission of some parts which seemed to be of less interest to the general reader, indicated by * * * ; and the insertion, chiefly from the enlarged edition, of about thirty spiritual and eminently characteristic letters of Sum- merfield, together with most of the "Reminiscences" and some additional matter, no part of which additions was in the hands of the author when the work was originally pre- pared. These letters, for the convenience of the reader, are inserted in the Memoir in the order of time, commencing on pages 88, 92, 102, 131, 144, 146, 154, 159, 163, 165, 166, 167, 188, 191, 192, 207, 215, 218, 221, 223, 225, 231, 233, 234, 240, 247, 250, 256, 258, 260, 261. The preface now consists solely of the admirable Introductory Letter of the poet Montgomery ; and the whole has been revised while passing through the press, and is commended to the grace and blessing of that God whom Summerfield delighted to serve. i.\nriri CONTENTS. CHAPTER I PAGE. Mr. Summerfield's parentage, birth, and education — G-oes to reside at Liver- pool — Remarkable dream, 11 CHAPTER II. Removal to Dublin — Falls into dissipated habits — Occasional contrition — Cor- respondence with Dr. Raffles — Thinks of entering the ministry among the dissenters — Goes into business — Fresh irregularities — Attends the courts of law, 21 CHAPTER III. His conversion — Attends prayer-meetings — Interesting letter to his class leader, 31 CHAPTER IV. Begins to keep a diary — Attends Sunday-schools — Gives an exhortation — In- cessantly studies the holy Scriptures — Attends an Irish wake — Filial obe- dience — Falls into temptation, 41 CHAPTER V. Studies incessantly — Thinks about the Christian ministry — Health very deli- cate — Religious experience — Ardent piety, 50 CHAPTER VI. Received as a local preacher — Spiritual exercises — Visits for the " Strangers' Friend Society" — Anxieties about his ministerial call — Excessive fasting — Removal to Cork — Entire devotedness to God, 60 CHAPTER VII. Summerfield becomes a popular preacher — Preaches almost incessantly — Min- isterial anxieties — Travels and addresses large auditories in Ireland with great success, 70 CHAPTER VIII. Returns to Dublin — Popularity increases — Dedicates himself afresh to God — Visits Cork — His fervor — Letter to his sister — Falls from his horse — Abun- dance of his labors — Letter to Rev. Edward Cobain — Receives a confer- ence appointment — Missionary speech, 79 CHAPTER IX. Religious experience — Resolves to avoid tea-parties — Preaches at the request of the Earl of Rosse — A dangerous illness — Letter to his sister — Resumes his labors, and addresses large congregations — Exercises of spirit — Loyalty — Anxious to visit England, 07 G CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Arrives in EngliinJ and preaclies at Bristol — Exeter — Attends conference sit Liverpool — Entertains thoughts of going to America — Embarks for New York, IIG CHAPTER XI. Summerfield arrives at New York — Eloquent speech — Stationed at New York — Speech — Unprecedented popularity — Addresses children — Letters — Newspaper notices — Lnmense audiences^ at AYashington — Preaches in front of the capitol — Affection of his friends — Letters — Present of a coat — Affecting sermon, I'il CHAPTER XII. Ordained deacon — Violent illness — Dictates a testamentary paper — Recovers slowly — Public anxiety — Letters — Visits New Jersey — Created Master of Arts — Letters, I "il CHAPTER XIII. Sails for Frniioe — Interesting letters from Marseilles, 16!) CHAPTER XIV. Writes to the Young Men's Missionary Society — Paris — Speeeh at the meet- ing of the Protestant Bible Society of France — Letters from Paris,- • 201 - CHAPTER XV. Arrives in England — Fairfield — Preaches at Liverpool — Letters — Attends the conference at Sheffield — Visits many other places — His health but little improved — Portrait — Letters. 211 CHAPTER XVI. Rettirns to America — Letters — Attends the Baltimore conference — Ordained an elder — Appointed a missionary within the bounds of Baltimore confer- ence — Letter to England — Extracts from diary — Collections for the Mis- sionary Society — At Baltimore in extreme debility, 230 CHAPTER XVII. Extracts from diary — Letters — Extempore preaching — Letters — Return to New fork — Address at the formation of the American Tract Society — Last illness — Death-bed expressions — Dies in the Lord — Public sympathy — Funeral — Monumental inscriptions, 244 CHAPTER XVIII. Greneral concluding observations, 273 REMINISCENCES. By the Rev. Dr. Bond— By the Rev. Dr. Matthew Richey— By Marijius Wil- lett, M. D. — Letter from Bishop H. B. Bascom — Recollecliions by Mrs. Creagh— By the Rev. Joshua N. Danforth— By the Rev. W. M. Willett— Letter from Bishop Emory — Recollections by the Rev. Dr. George W. Be- thnne — From an article by Rev. Dr. James W. Alexander, Princeton. N. .T. — From a student at law — From a theological student^From a Lady — From Rev. Dr. Townley, of London — From Rev. Dr. Nevins — Recollections of Summerfield's father and mother by his eldest sister, 280 " Summprfield,'" by AYilli;iiu P. Ttipp.in, Esq., ■!'.•! INTRODUCTORY LETTER BY THE POET MONTGOMERY. " To Mr. John Holland. " Dear Friend — When I named you to the relatives of the late E.ev. John Sunitnerlield, as a proper person to pre- pare a memoir of that minister extraordinary of the gospel, I was perfectly aware of the responsibility which I thereby incurred ; but I was also so well satisfied with x-espect to your qualifications, that I gladly trusted my credit on your performance of the task. I now thank you sincerely for having, most promptly and efiectually, redeemed the pledge which I laid down for you. Without binding myself to subscribe implicitly to every sentiment, or to approve of every form of expression in it, I can say, after an attentive perusal of the manuscript, that according to my best judg- ment you have done justice to the subject, honor to your- self, and service to the church on earth, by presenting one trophy more of the power of the religion of Jesus out of weakness to perfect strength, and by instruments such as God alone coiold make, and such as he alone vjould use, to work miracles of mercy in converting sinners from the error of their ways, saving souls from death, and covering a mul- titude of sins. " You know, that before I put the multifarious mate- rials for the intended work into your hands, I had dili- gently examined the whole, both for my own satisfaction and that I might be prepared to afibrd you any counsel or assistance in my power, which you might require, in the prosecution of your interesting but by no means easy labors. 8 INTRODUCTORY LETTER. I confess now, that while my willing persuasion of the ar- dent piety, the remarkable gifts, and the amazing influence of the preaching of this young apostle upon hearers of all classes, was abundantly confirmed as I proceeded, my sense of the difficulty of exhibiting a portrait of the deceased, nearly corresponding with the recollections of the living minister in the hearts of aflectionate kindred and friends, but especially of giving to those who knew him not, an idea which should justify in their esteem the praises that have been lavished upon him — my sense of the difficulty of doing this was greatly increased as I went along and found among his remains few traces of lofty intellect, powerful imagination, or touching pathos ; such as w^ould naturally be expected in the productions of a youth so early and .enthusiastically followed and applauded. But the bulk of these, being mere journals of daily incidents, often .very minute, and of heart-experience, never colored either under or above present feeling, the whole intended for his own eye only, and noted down under the eye of his Master, as though the running title of his pages had been, ' Thou, God, seest me,' the absence of all curious and elaborate composition, is a test of the genuineness of the records themselves, and rather to the credit than the disparagement of his genius. " In his sermons, however, something of the character of elegant literature might be required, and would be in place ; because the utter inartificiality which, in his memo- rabilia of hourly occurrences, was a merit, would have been a defect here. Accordingly I went with critical scrutiny, through nearly two hundred sketches of these, in his own handwriting; and I give it as my deliberate conviction, that though they were very unlike what 1 had anticipated from a fervent, fearless, self-sacrificing preacher, the delight of wondering, weeping, and admiring audiences wherever he went, they were, in one main respect, far superior; INTRODUCTORY LETTER. f- being calculated less for instant effect, than for abiding use- fulness. Though but studies, they are nevertheless exceed- ingly methodical in plan ; and in execution they .are distin- guished chiefly by sound doctrine, exact judgment, and severe abstinence from ornament. Such ornament, however, as does occur, is often exquisite ; and from being occasionally inter- polated — as after-thoughts — I cannot doubt, that in uttering these condensed compositions at spontaneous length, illustra- tions the most lively and beautiful sprang in like manner out of the subject, when the preacher himself was full to over- flowing, yet filling the faster the more he overflowed. "And this was the right kind of preparation for one who always had words at command, but whose feelings commanded hhn. He came to the pulpit with the whole scheme of his discourse clearly and succinctly marked out in his mind. Then, when he was indeed ' in the spirit,' warm- ed, exalted, and inspired with the divinity of his theme, the chain of premeditated ideas, link by link, in seemingly ex- temporaneous succession, would be developed ; while every thought, emotion, and appeal, would body itself forth in the most vivid and appropriate language. Then truly would his bow abide in strength, and every shaft which he sent I'rom the string, like the arrow of Acestes of old, would take fire in its flight, shine through the clouds, and vanish in the immensity of heaven. Virg. JEn., lib. 5, 1. 525-8. " But as the Sabbath and the sanctuary were the day and the place of resurrection, when his closet skeletons, liius clothed upon, became living, breathing, speaking ora- cles, the retrogression into their original forms would be proportionately to the preacher's disadvantage. Hearers, who had been rapt towards the third heaven in the fiery chariot of his delivery, and almost seemed to hear ' things which it was not lawful for man to utter,' when they after- wards became readers at home of the few faint outlines, 1* 10 INTROUUCTURY LETTER. however symmetrical and harmonious, would scarcely rec- ognize their shadowy resemblance to the glorious apparitions which had gone by, never to be reirewed except with the presence, the eye, and the voice of the preacher himself. In fact, every attempt to present on paper the splendid effects of impassioned eloquence, is like gathering up dew- drops, which appear jewels and pearls on the grass, but run to water in the hand ; the essence and the elements remain, but the grace, the sparkle, and the form are gone. " But Summerfield's memory needs no monument of his handywork to endear and perpetuate it ; nor is it any dero- gation from his talents to say, that he has left no posthu- mous proofs of their power, to divide with his Maker the glory of what God was pleased to do by him, in the faithful exercise of them. Brief indeed was his career, but brilliant and triumphant. Like one of the racers in that ancient game, wherein he who ran with the greatest speed, carry- ing a blazing torch unextinguished to the goal, was crown- ed as victor, he so ran that he soon obtained the prize ; and his light, not extinct even in death, but borne again in your hand, my dear friend, along the same path, while you retrace the Lord's dealings with him through his swift and shining course, shall be a guide, a comfort, and an example to thousands who never witnessed its living coruscations. " I do now, therefore, not less heartily recommend your little volume — the more precious, because it is a little one — to the Christian public as worthy of their acceptance, than on the former occasion I conscientiously recommended your- self to the esteemed relatives of the deceased, as Avorthy to be his biographer. " I am, faithfully and affectionately, " Your friend, "JAMES MONTaOMERY." " Sheffield, March 30, 1829." M E M O I R'S REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD CHAPTER I. MR. SUMMERFIELD'S PARENTAGE, BIRTH, AND EDUCATION— GOES TO RESIDE AT LIVERPOOL— REMARKABLE DREAM. Although accounts of the parentage of a saint of the Most High, unless connected with some very pecuhar cir- cumstances, are generally uninteresting, yet it may not be improper, in the instance before us, to record the following brief particulars. "William Summerfield, the father of that excellent min- ister, the particulars of whose life I am about to narrate, was born in Devonshire, April 12, 1770. * * * At an early period of his life, he was engaged as a millwright near "Wakefield, Yorkshire. While in this situation, he became acquainted with Miss Amelia Depledge, who, at the period in question, lived in the same neighborhood. In a short time they were married, and resided thenceforward about two years near Bretton. They then removed to Manchester, where Mr. Summerfield was engaged, during a residence of about four years, as foreman to a considerable machine man- ufactory. Here an event occurred of infinite importance to himself, and doubtless, in the issue, to many others who subsequently 12 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. came within the sphere of his influence, which, from the natural vigor of his mind, was far from being inconsiderable. He began to attend the preaching of the Wesleyan Method^ ists ; joined the society, and in a short time experienced a scriptural conversion ; which he attributed mediately to im- pressions received under the preaching of the Rev. Joseph Benson, at that time stationed in Manchester. This great religious change is said to have taken place when he was about twenty-one years of age. From that period he be- came a zealous disciple of his divine Lord and Master, and continued to evince the ardor and sincerity of his religious profession to the end of his life — a life w'hlch was chequered with more than an ordinary share of trials and vicissitudes, the minuter details of which would be here entirely out of place. It may, however, be observed without impropriety, that William Summerfleld was one of those men whose sanguine temperaments and projecting minds are more likely to lead tliem to engage in plausible speculations, than to incline them to advance their fortunes by the slow process of unin- ventive assiduity. Lancashire was at this time exhibiting the earlier efl'eets of that daring spirit of mechanical enter- prise which has, almost as it Avere by tlie power of ma- chinery, transplanted successful experimentalists from the poverty of paupers into the opulence of princes. Few men of persevering genius and common industry could witness what was then taking place around them, without thinking that they might, nor perhaps indeed without feeling that 1 hey ought to attempt the achievement of some such envied distinction. After remaining some time with his employers in Man- chester, WiUiam Summerfleld removed with his family to Preston abov;t 1797. Here he commenced business as an engineer and iron-founder, with every prospect of rising to opulence. He was highly respected by all who knew him. HIS CHILDHOOD. 13 both as a tradesman and as a member of the Methodist society ; in connection with which body he now acted as a local preacher : he was, indeed, particularly distinguished for the livehness of his faith, his continuing instant in prayer, and an almost unexampled spirit of self-denial. After experieneing various reverses of fortune, arising partly from the common casualties of business, and partly from being outwitted by partners, his affairs, at a time when he had reason to think himself wealthy, became deranged ; so that on the breaking up of an establishment and connec- tion upon which he had reasonably, but mistakenly, i-eposed his all, he left Preston, and after residing about two years in Burslem, Staffordshire, and a short time in Liverpool, went to Ireland in 1812, where he successively filled situa- tions of trust in Dublin and Cork. After a few years, he emigrated with his family to New York, in the United States of America, where his eldest daughter had been some time settled with her husband Mr. Blackstock, a respectable cot- ton-broker in that city. In the house of this exemplary son- in-law, where he had long found a home, and soothed by the affectionate attentions of all his surviving children, he expired, the victim of a violent dysentery, Sept. 19, 1825, aged 55. As his life had been characterized by eminent religious profession, so his death Avas not only satisfactory, but in the estimation of his friends, one of the most trium- phant ever Avitnessed. His sufl"erings during the last twelve hours were exceedingly acute ; but in the midst of these most trying moments his faith faltered not : he cried out, " I have an unshaken confidence." His frame of mind for several days before his death was happy beyond descrip- tion — bringing, in the expressive phrase of his attendants, " heaven upon earth." A few nights previous to his de- partnre, his daughter Amelia was awoke by his talking . aloud in his sleep, as with his beloved son John, the subject of this memoir. Being interrogated on the subject, he 14 REV. JOHN SUMMEE.F1ELD. replied, " John and I had much to do together." To the foregoing testimony the writer of these pages has the grati- fication of being enabled to add, that Avhen he visited Preston 'in 1828, he did not converse with a single individual who did not accord a prompt^cknowledgmeut of the religious charac- ter and moral worth of his former friend and townsman. Of the persoiial accomplishments and Christian experi- ence of his mother, I am unable to speak, beyond the gen- eral fact that she was a pious woman. She died in Liver- pool, whither she had removed for the benefit of her health, on the 9th of August, 1811; leaving with her friends a gratifying assurance that in her departure from this life she was gone to that Jesus whom her soul loved. Her remains lie buried in St. Paul's churchyard, in that town. William and Amelia Summerfield were the parents of nine children, five sons and four daughters, three of whom died in their infancy. John, the subject of these memoirs, was born at Preston, in Lancashire, January 31, 1798. Previously to the birth of this child his father had frequently been heard to say, that there was nothing that he desired more in early life, than that he should have a son ; that that son should be a min- ister of the gospel ; and that his name should be called John. And truly, as he and his wife, like Zacharias and Elizabeth of old, "were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blame- less," so likewise his prayer was heard — a man-child was born ; and his father, in the spirit of the venerable priest of Jerusalem, "praised God" that he had given him a son. And it is w^orthy of remark, that at the time of the birth of the babe, his father solemnly dedicated him to the tcorh of the ministry. How far, when in after-life "he was filled with the Holy Ghost," he imitated his evangehcal namesake in "preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins," resembling him as he did in being dedicated to the HIS CHILDHOOD. 15 Lord "even from the womb/' the history of his ministerial liie must testify. John was an exceedingly intei'esting and amiable child. At five years of age he was sent to school, where he had not been twelve months before he was accounted the best reader ; and his teacher was so proud of him that she fre- quently pointed to him as an example for the other children to imitate. He was much caressed and complimented by strangers as well as friends, and his manners were so pleas- ing that they always attracted attention : yet he was not in the slightest degree a spoiled child ; for however much indulged, it appeared to have no bad effect upon him. He was so remarkably sensitive, that he could not bear to see his brothers or sisters corrected. When about six years old, he was sent to school with his sister, aged about eight, to a pious Methodist lady, about twenty miles from home. This was the first time they had been separated from their parents, and was tbe occasion of much distress to his sister ; but John, who had not only a happy method of restraining his own feelings, but likewise of administering comfort to others, addressed her in a style rather of manly than juvenile consolation. "Ellen," he would say, when his sister began to weep, " Ellen, I really am astonished at you ; you know that our father sent us here for our good ; but if you fret and grieve so, you will make yourself ill, and then you wont be able to learn any thing. And think how sorry our mother would feel, and how disappointed she would be, if she were to knoy. You ought to be more of a woman ; besides, Mrs. Campbell would be displeased, should she see you." Such were the reasonings of the child, whose engaging manners made him almost the idol of the family ; and who, when Mrs. Camp- bell was at prayer, would clasp his little hands, and devoutly respond, "Amen." On leaving Mrs. Campbell, with whom he had made con- l(i REV. JOHN SUAIMERFIELD. sidcrable progress, he was placed under the care of Mr. Berry, au approved master in Preston : for hinn he entertained a very high regard, although he was extremely rigid. Mr. Berry pronounced him, on entering the school, the best grammarian he had ever met Avith for his years. Here he held a most respectable rank in the various classes ; though it was re- marked that he hardly studied at all during the intervals of school hours. At this period he was excessively fond of play ; indeed, he was so entirely devoted to recreation, that from the time he left school, generally about five o'clock in the afternoon, he rarely opened his books until within about half an hour of school-time in the morning, when he would begin to make preparation. His manner of committing his tasks to memory in so short a time, was somewhat singular: he would lay himself down in the cradle, and with his feet over the sides, would set it rocking at full swing ; he would then apply himself to his lessons with the greatest eager- ness ; after he had gone over them a few times in this way, he would spring up and hasten to school, reciting as he went the tasks he was expected to repeat. His mother would Irequently tell him that she Avas afraid to see or hear from Mr. Berry, who might have a bad account to give of him, as he was so negligent with regard to his studies. The accounts, however, received of him, were most gratifying ; and his teachers declared, that such was his aptitude for learning that he cost them very little trouble. This towardness of disposition was so satisfactory to his ftither, that he was determined to spare no expense in giving him a good education. "With a wise regard to the value of religious instruction in connectioh with scholastic discipline, he was sent to the celebrated seminary at Fairfield, an extensive Moravian establishment, about four miles Irom Manchester. The preceptor was the Rev. C. F. Ramftier, who was likewise the resident minister ; under this gentle- man, young Summerfield not only made considerable prog- HIS CHILDHOOD. 17 ress ill the classics, and other branches of education, but received rehgious impressions which it is probable were never wholly obliterated from his conscience. In this school, too, he was generally beloved ; and was especially a favorite with the Moravian bishop Moore, then residing at Fairfield. This venerable prelate used to dehght in hearing the amiable tyro recite religious pieces in prose and verse : this distinc- tion M'as carried so far, that he was even selected to give these recitations in the chapel — a practice which, as it has not been repeated, shows at least the estimation in which he was held by the worthy superiors in that establishment. He remained in this delightful retreat nearly five years, when he was abruptly taken away in consequence of his father's misfortunes, in December, 1809. During the vacations of midsiimmer and Christmas up to this period, when he returned home, his company was sought and he was caressed by the heads of several of the first families in the neighborhood of Burslem ; being treated^ more like an equal than a mere boy by some of his seniors, who held him up as an example for youth much older than himself to emulate. His memory was remarkably tenacious, and his fund of entertaining pieces, grave as well as humorous, in connection wdth his powers for I'cci- tation before alluded to, rendered him a very desirable com- panion. The following anecdote, as it exhibits the filial piety and precocious talents of this interesting boy, may be appropri- ately introduced here. In the year 1810, at the time when Mr. William Summerfield's embarrassments were extremely distressing, and led to the employment of John in various ways, a thought struck the intelligent lad, that it was pos- sible for him so to redeem a portion of his time, as to enable him to open a night-school. With him, even at this early age, to devise and to execute were the same : the attempt was made ; the school was opened ; and many young men 18 RRV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. twice as old as himself presented themselves, so that he had soon more applications than he could receive. The school was continued until his removal to Liverpool, when he parted with his pupils amid their sincere regrets. It is worthy of remark, that tlie proceeds of this school were religiouslj^ handed over to his mother. At this period he seems to have cherished that spark of religious feeling, and to have maintained the distinctness of those impressions of which he had been the subject at Fair- field. It was, moreover, his practice to spend much time — his friends say "whole weeks" — in retirement, for the pur- poses of study and meditation ; exhibiting herein a faint and juvenile emulation of the holy conduct of the celebrated non-conformist divine, Isaac Ambrose, once the minister of Prcslon, Avhose custom it was once a year to retire into a hut in a neighboring wood, and there spend a montli in religions contemplation. As already stated, Mrs. Summerfield died in 1811. John, then in his thirteenth year, accompanied this beloved parent to Liverpool, whither she had gone for the benefit of the sea air ; and he was the only child that was with her (luring the last four months of her illness. The circum- stance of her death peculiarly impressed his mind, and he often dwelt upon the subject — especially in after-life, when he hardly ever spoke of the glorified throng in heaven with- out naming his mother. This wealthy, interesting, and thriving town, which had afforded a grave to his mother, now became the residence of her son ; and here, before he was fifteen years old, he filled the situation of clerk in a mercantile establishment, being principally employed in managing a French correspondence, the principal being himself unacquainted with foreign languages. He was an excellent book-keeper and accountant, and was prized and retained in this situation until the failure of the house. It was about this time that young Summerfield liad a HIS CHILDHOOD. 19 remarkable dream, to which he has frequently been known to advert in after-life ; it is however mentioned here, not as otherwise important, than as showing, with perhaps the ordinary exaggeration arising from the eiiect of sleep, the tenor and tendency of his waking thoughts. One night, after he had been some time in bed, his sister was alarmed by an uncommon noise which he made : at this time he was subject to the cramp ; but contrary to expectation, when his sister entered his room he was fast asleep, yet appeared very restless, and his countenance was much agi- tated. She awoke him and inquired what was the matter ; he replied, "Did I disturb you? It was not the cramp : I'll tell you, Ellen, all about it in the morning." The next day, she was very anxious to know every particular relative to the disturbance which had caused the alarm, "Ah," said he, "it M^as a terrifying dream; when I made that noise and exhibited that struggle, I thought Satan hd.d laid hold upon me." Said he, " I found a beaten track, in which great numbers of persons were walking ; I therefore resolved to mingle with the crowd and ascertain the meaning of all this. After some time I discovered what I took to be the termination of my wadiderings, yet I could not see any par- ticular object of attraction, although many appeared to be worshipping something which I could not perceive ; how- ever, on a nearer approach, I found the object of adoration to be no other than Satan himself, surrounded by a pros- trate multitude. I immediately looked round for some way by which I might escape, determining that / ivoulcl not bend the knee: I at last discovered a narrow and winding stairway, the ascent of which was very high and steep, yet I was resolved to ascend although I had to pass by Satan to reach the stairs. I mounted with great rapidity ; the wind- ings became more and more difficult, and my course' was much impeded ; with brealhless anxiety I took one look back, and finding T was pursued and almost within the very 20 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. gras]} of the enemy, I made one desperate eflbrt, by which I escaped, and immediately awoke." No part of his correspondence with his family or others, at this period, has been preserved — at least, none has come to hand. In the absence of such documentary evidence as his own letters, it is yet certain that he indulged to the ut- most of his means that thirst for information by which he had always been distinguished, especially a taste for oratory, which having heen implanted with his early habits, he sought every opportunity of gratifying by hearing the best speakers, whether in the pulpit, at the bar, or in popular assemblies : among the former, the Rev. Thomas Spencer, whose popularity was at that time the ascendant attraction ill Liverpool, appears to have been one of the chief pulpit favorites of our young aspirant. HIS YOUTH. 21 CHAPTER II. REMOVAL TO DUBLIN — FALLS IXTO DISSIPATED HABITS — OCCA- SIONAL CONTRITION— CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. RAFFLES- THINKS OF ENTERING THE I\IINISTRY AMONG THE DISSENTERS — GOES INTO BUSINESS — FRESH IRREGULARITIES — ATTENDS THE COURTS OF LAW. Towards the latter end of the year 1812, Mr. "VYilUam Summerfield removed with his family to Dublm. On their settlement in that city, John evinced no disposition to pursue any kind of business or profession. It is somewhat remark- able that his associates, from this time iintil he became relig- ious in the true sense of the term, were generally persons from ten to twenty years older than himself; indeed, he had no companions in youth of his own age ; and one of the most extraordinary features in his character consisted in the fluency and ability with which he could converse on subjects seldom attended to by one of his years. At fifteen he seemed to possess the experience of a person advanced in life — an uncommon knowledge of human nature, and the rare talent of describing whatever he had heard or seen in the most interesting manner. These qualities, with a large fund of anecdotes and a rare facetiousness, together Avith a disposition the "most accom- modating, probably conduced to his chief misfortunes. His warm heart, which was truly formed for friendship, could rarely withstand the fervor of solicitation. So ready was he to serve his friends, that he would frequently, for acts of kindness towards others, perform acts of indiscretion towards himself, which as frequently led him into difficulties. His extreme sensibility was such, that a plaintive appeal was generally irresistible ; it would call forth all his ener- gies ; and sometimes he has had the mortification to discover that his kindness had been at least ill timed, and frequently. 22 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. as just intimated, accompanied by serious disadvantage to liimself. To turn -a deaf ear to the complaints of the dis- tressed, "was quite out of the question with John Summer- field ; if his time or his talents were in requisition, they were bestowed with an ardor bordering on enthusiasm ; was pecuniary assistance required, it was never withheld, if in liis power to communicate. On one of these occasions, he w^as called upon by a petitioner in distress ; but alas, his means were exhausted : after a moment's dehberation, he left the person, requesting him to wait till his return. Going home, he found the silver spoons laid upon the dinner-table ; these he removed, together with what teaspoons he could collect, and presented the whole to the person in distress, whom he had known, when in affluent circumstances, as an individual by whom his father had lost considerable sums of money. The company with whom he at this time mingled, caused him to be much from home, spending his time at the theatre, the billiard-room, or the card-table; most frequently the latter. This infatuating species of vice so captivated his mind, that by practice he became quite an adept, and was led on by degrees to emulate the more adventurous by play- ing a higlb game. It may well be conceived that these irregularities were sources of indescribable anguish to his father and family, who frequently labored under the most dreadful apprehensions, not knowing where such things might eud. Remorse of conscience always followed a season of dis- sipation, and then his suflerings were almost beyond endur- ance. On these occasions, he would remain closeted for weeks together, engaged, not only in his studies, which were intense, but in daily lamenting with heart-rending fervor his trangressions ; seven times a day has he been known to prostrate himself with his fixce to the ground, imploring the tiivtnc forgiveness for his manifold sins. His distress of HIS YOUTH. 23 mind, on account of disobedience to his parents, was often almost more than he could bear. It "was during these lucid intervals of compunction and penitence, that his father's bruised hopes of ultimately seeing his son a minister of the gospel used to revive. Had he not been a man of un- commonly strong faith, there were circumstances existing at this period abundantly sufficient to dishearten him ; enough, indeed, to destroy the confidence of most other men : yet he remained firm in the belief that his prayers would be an- swered concerning his son. It has already been stated that young Summerfield, while in Liverpool, was an occasional attendant on the ministry of the Rev. Thomas Spencer. On the publication of the Rev. Thomas Raffles' interesting "Life of Spencer," a copy of the work was sent by a friend to our young prodigal in Dublin : he read it with great interest ; and feeling his heart yearn towards the sacred profession, and experiencing at the same time a strong desire to return to England, he resolved to open a correspondence with the author, in the hope of obtaining admission into the academy of the dissent- ers at Hoxton. Through the kindness of Dr. Raffles, the first letter on this subject, in the autograph of Summerfield, lies before me : " Dublin, Gkand Cjvnax Dock, | Hanover Quay, Jan. 7, 181-1. ) " Reverend Sir — I am at length induced by the repeat- ed solicitations of a few of my more particular friends, to address you upon a subject which of all others is the most weighty. " My name is utterly unlvnown to you, as well as my person, though I am well acquainted with both these in yourself. "From my earliest infancy, I have had it in contempla- tion to become an ambassador for Christ ; and of late, this lias been kindled in me to a degree, so as not to leave a doubt 24 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELP. in my mind, but that my prayers to God to open my way are now answering. The other week, a friend sent me your ' Life of Spencer ' from Liverpool ; and I have read it with such deUght, that it has tended more than any thing to increase the spark already kindling. I am but eighteen* years of age, not yet quite accomplished, and my youth would be the chief hinderance to my resolution of addressing you, had not my friends encouraged me to Avrite you freely, being so perfectly satisfied of your Christian temper and candor, that if you gave me nothing to hope in my applica- tion, it would not be taken amiss. " As this is the first communication — though I trust it may be suflered to be continued ; yet being uncertain, and the event in embryo — I do not write fully, any farther than to say, that the tenets professed by the church of which you are the present supporter and guide, do most coincide with my ideas and belief in the revelation of God by his Son. I have had a very liberal education, having been brought up at Fairfield academy, near Manchester, among that worthy people the Moravians ; and my father, having apparently intended me for the church, spared no expense to render my education fit for the purpose. But as I cannot give my mind to that church, for many reasons, I would be more willing to list under the banners of your church ; though God knows it is in effect the same as theirs, being all warriors for Christ. I enclose this in a letter to my friends in Liverpool, to be forwarded to you, being ignorant of your address. " You will see how to address me, at the head of this ; and I would entreat your answer, if so much of your precious 1 ime can be devoted to answer so unworthy a servant ; but though unworthy, not the more unwelcome. " I would wish to begin my race early, run it with joy, and end it with glory. * So in the original, but it is certainly a slip of the pen; it should be "sixteen." , His YOUTH. 25 " This commuiiicatiou is with my father's approbation — a gentleman in moderate circumstances, whose highest wish it is to see liis son settled in his course. " Believe me, reverend sir, '-' Yours, most respectfully and devotedly, "J. SUMMERFIELD.- " The E,ev. Thomas Raffles, Liverpool." The following letter, apparently in reply to the foregoing, was written, as will be seen from the date, about throe months after it ; there had probably, however, been an in- termediate communication. " LiVEErooL, March 28, 1814. " Do not imagine, my dear sir, because I have not been so quick as you might wish, and as I have desired to be, in n^y reply to your communication, in which you stated so much at length your feelings and your views, that I have forgotten you, or that I take no interest in your aflliirs. The fact is, that I have been waiting for a favorable opportunity of writing you pretty much at length, but owing to the ex- treme press of official business, I have not been able. " You can form no conception of the labors of a pastor who has two thousand souls committed to his care. Even now I steal half an hour from rest, for the purpose of com- muning with my friends ; and I cannot prevail upon myself to retire, though exhausted nature demands repose, till 1 have, by a few lines, relieved the anxiety of your mind. " I have been out of town, into Wales, which is the cause of my not having answered your letter till now. I am very happy now to find that you have a design to visit Liverpool ; I can talk to you upon the interesting subject of our correspondence, and say more to you and hear more fronr you in one hour, than could transpire in twenty letters. "Have you friends in Liverpool? 1 am sorry that I have no house to invite you to. I am but a bachelor, and consequently a lodger. I hope you will come either before ^6 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELl). ■ or after the month of May, as during tiiat month I expect to be in London. I should rather it was after May, as in the ensuing month I have no less than three journies to make, by which, of course, my time will be very much con- sumed — besides much other business which will absorb my whole attention. " I should like, when you are here, to enjoy much of your society ; and this, at present, I fear I should not be able to do. I forbear, in the prospect of an interview which your letter promises, to enter now into any further particulars rfespecting your views of the ministry — and praying you to maintain a spirit of self examination, watchfulness, and dili- gence, with best respects to your friends, I am ^ " Yours, very faithfully, - ^ " THOIvIAS RAFFLES." The two foregoing letters are given entire, because they constitute the material evidence of a very interesting move- ment in the mind of Summerfield, and the solicitation for an arrangement which, had it taken place, might have been of the last importance in his life. Upon the probable issue of events, had the desire he then felt been consummated, it would now be idle to speculate. One question, however, naturally suggests itself, which it will be neither difficult nor improper to settle, namely, whether the negotiations alluded to were terminated voluntarily or otherwise on the part of the petitioner. Whatever other letters were written on this subject — and others undoubtedly there were — the two above cited are obviously the first and the last that passed between the parties; and whether or not the intermediale ones contained any more distinct overtui'es from either side, cannot be ascertained. If it should be thought that Dr. Raffles' communication holds out but little encouragement to the youthful applicant, and that the stretching forth a little further the hand of ministerial affection might have brought a vriliialili> rpornit inin llic ranks of tlic di.^spiilcrs, HIS rOUTH. 27 it must at the same time be recollected that Mr. Summer- field's solicitation, although signed with liis name, and to a certain extent accredited, was virtually anonymous ; and lor the pastor of" a large church thus to be expected pronrptly to extend his patronage, in a matter of so much delicacy, to an entire stranger, was in the abstract unreasonable. Besides, under these circumstances, the language of courtesy and the proposal of an interview on the part of Mr. E-afHes, fairly entitle his conduct herein to the character of that of delicate and judicious encouragement. Thus much is plainly dedu- cible from the document alone ; and if there was no other evidence, the legitimate inference would be, either that Surn- rnerfield retracted from discouragement, or that he changed his mind. His own testimony, from a letter written after his conversion to a religious friend, appears to settle the question. Speaking of the sanguine hopes he once enter- tained in prospect of this arrangement, he adds, " Filial duty however prevented, on my father's remonstrance, which arose iVom the doctrines taught by many of that body, as to election, etc. ; consequently I gave iip the idea." Few per- sons, at all acquainted with either the father or the son, would doubt their sincerity in this reason ; fewer still, it may be })resumed, of those who witnessed Summerfield's fall into new dissipations, would rejoice that they should have pre- vailed. At the same time, many things not necessary to be specified here, must have been attended to before he could have been admitted into a dissenter's academy. He evi- dently had not the religious experience required of candi- dates, whatever his doctrinal notions might have been. Notwithstanding all the agony which he occasionally felt for his past misconduct, and his frequent intervals of resolu- tion and reform, he was repeatedly tempted into courses of dissipation. He became -extravagantly fond of theatrical amusements ; and having no regular employment, he de- lighted in attending whole days in the courts of justice and 28 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. in visitintj public institutions. He would leave home for weeks together, visiting London and other places with the view ol' gaining information — his family sometimes having no idea where he was. As already intimated, his admira- tion of oratory was excessive ; and he would lose no oppor- tunity of hearing eminent speakers. It was all one to him whether they were to be found in the pulpit, at the bar, in the senate, or on the stage. "V\Tien necessity compelled him to return home, he v/ould shut himself up in his chamber ; and during these fits of seclusion, such was his thirst for knovv'ledge that he made a point of rising at four o'clock in the morning ; after which he frequently remained at his studies without interruption until eight o'clock in the even- ing, taking, during the intermediate sixteen hours, only two or three cups of coflee I This irregular and intense application was, without doubt, seriously injurious to his constitution ; and he had at times a very emaciated appearance, arising from mental labor, close confinement, and great distress of mind on ac- count of his past misconduct. Young as he was, his father now began to feel a wish to establish him in some business, and selected, very unprom- isingly, as most persons will think, the coal-trade. In this ungeuial concern he was associated with another individual more experienced than himself. Prospects of profit had no influence with Summerfield to induce his certainly elegant mind to accommodate itself to the language of the wharf, or calculations by the chaldron. Instead, therefore, of being found at the quay or in the counting-house, he gave his atten- tion to neither, but would shut himself up in his study or absent himself from home altogether. Such misconduct was followed by its natural consequences. The unsettled kind of life which he still continued to lead, frequently incurred his father's displeasure ; and this conduct was aggravated by his promises of reform, which were not more frequently HIS i'UUXH. 29 made lliau they were broken, so that his derehctions became intolerable. This total neglect of" business and the concom- itant money losses, led him to the exercise of a facile and too often practised expedient ibr the relief of his present difli- culties : he was induced to indorse paper acceptances, for those whom he conceived to be his friends. This involved him in responsibilities which he could not meet, and not only brought poverty and distress into his family, but ultimate ruin upon himself, As the climax of his degi'adation he was thrown into the marshalsea of Dublin. Here a new theatre lor the exercise of his ingenuity was presented : having a tolerable stock of legal knowledge, he employed himself for his fellows in confinement, in drawing up the necessary memorials for those who were seeking their enlargement under the provisions of the Insolvent act. Whatever an attorney could do in this respect, was easy to Summerfield : and the cases which he undertook to manage being generally successful, his practice in this way became considerable, and continued even after his own liberation. His necessities corhpclled him to make a regular charge, so that he derived from this source a considerable income. In drawing up a petition on any subject, he had acquired a facihty that was astonishing : he would commence and con- tinue to the end of the document, almost without a moment's hesitation, and rarely with a single interlineation. In this respect he was singularly gifted, as his letters and other compositions evince, for seldom had he occasion to alter or erase a word ; and it may be added, that in after-life espec- ially, he wrote a neat and elegant hand Avith great rapidity mv} evenness. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that he felt a strong inclination towards the study of the law. At the age of sixteen, as before stated, he was wont to spend days together in the courts in Dublin, where he has fre- quently heard causes tried from beginning to end, as well 30 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. for murder as for other crimes. After attending to the tes- timony of the various witnesses with as much anxiety as if he were engaged as counsel, he would closely estimate all the bearings of the case, and with boyish enthusiasm has been heard to say, " 0, how I should, hke to sum up." On one occasion, he was in attendance before one of the courts of justice in Dublin, as an important witness against a person who was seeking to take the benefit of the Insol- vent act. He was examined, and most rigidly cross-examined by an eminent lawyer ; but to puzzle him appeared impos- sible : he was able to recollect, without any memoranda, the dates of a vast number of payments and receipts, sales and purchases — pounds, shillings, and pence — with such ex- actness, that it astonished the whole court. On this occa- sion the judge paid him a high compliment: "Pray, sir," said his lordship, "what is your profession ?" " I am in no profession, my lord," answered Summerfield. "No profes- sion, no ^)/o/cssio;2, sir?" " No, my lord." The judge then said something to the following effect: "Well, sir, I have never heard a witness within the walls of these courts, give his testimony in a more clear, correct, and satisfactory man- ner than you have done. Depend upon it, you'll one day or other he a zhinins' cliaracler in the world." HIS CONVERSION. 31 CHAPTER III. ms CONVERSION-ATTENDS PRAYER-MEETINGS-INTEIIKSTING LETTER TO HIS CLASS-LEADER. The shrewd and generous prediction of the Irish judge, just cited, was destined to be fulfilled within a few mouths after it was uttered, though certainly in the way least antic- ipated by the legal prophet. Summerfield was now nine- teen years of age, the last four of which had been spent in the desultory manner already noticed. The time, however, was now approaching, when the Lord was about to give the distressed and prayuig father to see the fulfilment of his most anxious desires, in the conversion of his son ; and moreover, in seeing a double portion even of the spirit oi a prophet rest upon him. This great gospel change, it will be seen, was not efiected by any slow or uncertain process ; much less, under such circumstances as to leave it for some time a doubtful case, whether or not his new character might originate in the mere reformation of sentiment and maimers. His conversion, indeed, was at once signal and scriptural, and in its proximate circumstances little agreeing with the notions of those who, as he used to remark, fancied "that John Summerfield would have been converted like a gentleman." In the year 1817, he was brought to reflect seriously on his past life and on the conduct he was then pursuing. He saw clearly that he was the cause of the distress to which his father was reduced ; and his own prospects in life ap- peared at the same time awfully gloomy : these reflections had a dreadful eflect upon his mind, and he experienced lashings of conscience too terrible for endurance. Instead of seeking and finding relief in prayer, he felt himself a reprobate before God, and was more than once tempted to commit suicide. He found no resting-place amid the "mire 32 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. and clay" into which Satan had brought his feet, and saw no escape from the "horrible pit" of his own despair. In this state of mental agony, he was one day wandering about in the streets of Dublin, weeping bitterly, when he was noticed and accosted by a pious man, by trade an edge- tool maker, who, with the tact of a Methodist and the sim- plicity of a saint, ascertained his state and endeavored to comfort him ; at the same time inviting him to his house, where he was about to hold a prayer-meeting. The party assembled consisted chiefly of soldiers i'rom the barracks ; prayer was oflered by ditlerent persons in turn, and the case of the providential interloper was specially presented before Him with whom "the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much ;" and such was the fervor of the good leader and the soldiers, and so sincere the contrition and sup- plication of the penitent, that he that very night found peace to his soul. Having found such a blessing among these poor soldiers, he became much attached to them, and resolved to make them some return of kindness for what they had done for him. On inquiry, he ascertained that their situation at the barracks was by no means comfortable, they being perpetu- ally ridiculed and insulted by wicked men in the regiment. Hearing this, he was determined to relieve them if possible — for on his visits he found them as bad as they had been described — utterers of prolime sarcasms and revilers of all religion. In resolving to do what he could towards chang- ing the character of these men, he hit upon an expedient which, however successful in his case, is of too perilous "a nature to be adduced for imitation. He commenced his work of reformation by relating such stories and anecdotes as he knew would please them, endeavoring by every means to make his company agreeable to them. In this he suc- ceeded ; and in time, as his visits became frequent and acceptable, he began to check their swearing and other im- HIS CONVERSION. 33 proper language. He would even occasionally condescend to assist them in little matters, as pipe-claying their belts, etc. At length, he so far gained their respect and estab- lished his own influence, that no improper language was ever allowed or used in his presence ; and if any thing wrong happened to be going on at the time of his visit, the moment that he entered the yard, some one would give the signal, "He's coming," and presently all became order and regularity. He next got them to attend to reading the Bible, held regular prayer-meetings among them, and ex- horted them to seek the Lord. The number of serious per- sons among the soldiers increased daily, and his plan pros- pered more and more, until, to his great regret, the regiment was removed. He now felt at a loss for a proper sphere for the exercise of his zeal : at length he bethought himself of the Old Men's Ho&pital, which he visited repeatedly, but with little suc- cess, as he found the inmates, to use his own phrase, "too tough for any impression that he could make ;" and he was often heard to say, in consequence of his experience here, that "a man turned fifty would hardly be converted." His first class-leader was the pious Patrick French, who, at the latter end of 1817, left Dublin as a missionary to the "West Indies. This gentleman presently discovered the ster- ling piety and promising talents of the young convert ; and before his departure from Ireland, he waited upon one of the preachers to commend the stranger to his particular notice, "Brother Lamb," said he, "I am going from you, perhaps never to return. Hemember now my last request : take particular care of brother Summerfield ; make him known to all your brethren, and he will one day shine in the world and in the church of God." From Mr. French, whom he used to call his spiritual father, he had received many kindnesses, and that too at a time when the attentions of a Christian friend were most 34 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. necessary and acceptable. * * * The following extracts from a letter addressed to him by Mr. Summerfield will be read with great interest. The writer's well-known characteris- tics of memory, veracity, and candor, are vouchers for the authenticity of a narrative to which Providence has given a peculiar interest, and which exhibits certain delicate auto- biographical touches which, in the estimation of its present copyist, ought to be sacredly preserved. " Dublin, Lower Motojt-street, Nov. 24, 1817. " My very dear Sir — Although you kindly promised to favor me with a letter from London at your convenience, yet my anxiety to have this pleasure fulfilled will not sufler me to wait, without putting you in mind of this your prom- ise, and requesting that you would hasten that communica- tion for which I am so anxious. I should be quite discour- aged from attempting to write to you at this time, when I suppose every moment is engaged in concerns of so weighty a nature ; and with this idea, it gives me some pain to think that I am trespassing upon any portion of that which must be so very valuable to you ; but when I view you in the light of my dearest parent, in which capacity you have not only been pleased to consider yourself by words, but much more by your actions, I should be wanting in that dutiful respect which I owe you, were I to permit any considera- tion to prevent my paying my respects to you, as I am bound to do by duty, but much more by love. Hoping, therefore, for your kind pardon for this hasty liberty, I presume to un- bosom my mind to you in a manner which bashfulness would not sufier me to do when I had the happiness of your pres- ence here. " I cannot sufficiently lament that I had not the delight of your acquaintance at a much earlier period of time than I have had ; for had I been so fortunate, I should have been prevented from fightmg against what I now see to be the manifest openings of that kind Providence, who says, ' Your HIS CONVERSION. 35 name is oravcu on the palm's of my hands,' who there- fore marlcs out all our gomgs, if we will but follow his dictates. "Such was the short duration of our acquaintance, that I do not even know whether you knew that I was the son of a person with whom you had, I believe, been very inti- mate as brethren in Christ for a long time ; for my father was for a considerable time a member of the Strangers' Friend Society in Dublin, and on terms of affectionate inti- macy with you. "However, as the loss 1 have sustained in my spiritual state for want of an earlier connection, cannot now be recov- ered, I wish at this time to lay before you a very short ac- count of the dealings of Providence with me, and to request you will give me such paternal advice as you may see I so much need ; but as this can only be done when you have a moment of leisure time, let me not intrude myself on you till that offers itself "I often think that the deahngs of Almighty God have been more various towards me than with persons much more advanced in life. "I shall have cause to bless the Lord through all the ages of eternity, that I was born of religious parents ; my father being for many years a leader and local preacher in the Methodist connection, and for some time a steward, until we removed from Preston to Staffordshire. As I was his eldest son, it was his particular wish that I should have the best of educations, as he always designed me for a profes- sion. With this view, after being sent to the best prepara- tory school, I was put among the Moravians, or United Brethren, at Fairfield, near Manchester, where I remained nearly five years. About the close of this time my father received a call from the Almighty, to preach the everlasting gospel on the itinerant plan. At this time, he was very extensively engaged in business in Lancashire, and estimated 36 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELU. worth £10,000 ; he had just completed the building of a commodious house lor our family in Preston, and was pros- pering in worldly concerns as much as any reasonable per- son could desire. "His heart being alive to God and his cau.s(?, he dared not resist the will of his great Master, and prepared to quit his business and hang upon Providence for his future life. For this purpose he accepted the ofler of a gentleman from Liverpool to become partner with him in his business, which my father was the more willing to do, as it was his inten- tion to quit his business gradually, by disposing of all he had to this his then partner. But before he could get this accomplished, he found that he had misplaced bis choice, as the person with Avhom he had associated himself though to all appearance a gentleman of the first respectabihty, yet a worldly man, was involved iu a mass of debt from which it was impossible lor him to extricate himself In this situation, my father became liable for these debts as his partner ; and in order to prevent worse consequences, he was advised to assign over all Ids 'property of every nature and kind to this person, upon the promise that he should receive a fair recompense for it. My father liad but two choices, either to do this, or be torn in pieces for these debts, which might be more than the amount of all that my father was then worth. This jjerson, however, never fulfilled any part of his agreement ; and my father, by repeated delays and disappointments, gave up the idea of following that call, which he has ever since conicssed it was his duty to do. It seemed as if Providence had prepared his way by cutting oti' at one stroke every worldly affair, and by now refusing that call which he had promised to accept, the judgments of God have ever since hung heavy upon him. He has often engaged in worldly matters since; he has amassed wealth since that time, but the Almighty never sufiered it to remain with hiin ; he has lost thousands of pounds in such ways as HIS CONVERSION. 37 almost seemed miraculous, and he now attributes it entirely to this one act. Though he now enjoys the favor of God, and even his sanctifying love in a great degree, yet he always mourns this one action of his life, and has frequently told me in sincerity and truth, that the Almighty has clearly shown him that this was the cause, and always will be a cause of temporal chastisement. "The ways of Providence have heen most mysterious to me ; and in order that I may not frustrate the wise designs of heaven, I Avill briefly stale what I have experienced. "From the losses my father sustained I was taken from school very abruptly, and having engaged in several worldly aflkirs, I became clerk to a merchant in Liverpool at four- teen years of age, with whom I had a liberal salary, though so very young, owing to my knowledge of the French lan- guage, of which my master knew nothing. Few so young had such fine worldly prospects as I had ; but in a short time it pleased Providence to thwart me by my employer becoming a bankrupt. 1 then removed to Ireland with my father, where I had not been long, when I had a strong de- sire to return to England, having opened a correspondence M'ith the Rev. Mr. Raffles, a Calvinist minister, with a view of obtaining permission to enter their seminary at Hoxton, to be prepared for the ministry of the gospel ; which, if I had done, I should probably now have been a preacher of the everlasting gospel to that people. I poured out my' prayers to God ; and if ever I felt power with the Almighty, it was then. I am assured he smiled on me in all I did ; and when I had wept befcJre him on the reflection of the awfuhiess of the work and my own youth, I have experienced such a sense of his presence and promises of assistance, that I could not for a moment doubt it was his will. " Ifrom what I experienced at that time I am convinced that there are as good men in that body of Christians, as in any other ; for I was strongly rooted in their opinions, but 38 . REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. suffered no diminution in love to God on that account. Since then, the Almighty in a great measure withdrew his presence from me ; and when my father directed my pur- suits to worldly objects, He thwarted me in every under- taking. " After being for some time w«ith my father, he put me into the coal-trade, in partnership with another person then in the business. I advanced £500 as my capital : before we had been together three months, my partner behaved to me very dishonestly; he had my money in his hands and got himself arrested, and having spent four months in jail, got out under the Insolvent act, by which I lost all my money. " In my soberest moments, I cannot account for these dif- ferent crosses on the scale of human mischances so called ; for I was not devoid of all such prudence as worldly men make use of After this, my father again resolved to con- tinue me in the business. " My prospects for a time began to brighten ; and with my business my acquaintances also increased, and I was induced by some to accept bills for their accommodation to a large amount, which they were to provide for. My good- nature was visited on my own head ; the bills came down on me, and in the midst of my seeming prosperity, I was thrown into prison for those bills which I had accepted. There the Almighty kept me seven long months, and I was again plunged into poverty. " Now, my dearest friend, what shall I do ? I hope that God has completely weaned me from earthly things ; I have not one wish below the sun, but' to live to him. I am de- termined to submit to his providence, and to do whatever he shall unfold to me. " A thought occurred to me yesterday, in which I also entreat your advice : I understand that the Messrs. Shaws have taken your establishment ; now if you think they would want some person to fill the capacity which you filled along HIS CONVERSION. 39 with Mrs. French, you might write to Mr. Shaw for me. From my knowledge of the French language, music, Latin, Greek, etc., I might be an acquisition ; not to mention the inferior branches, such as geography, history, astronomy, etc., etc. If it should please God to call me to this situa- tion, I could fill it with honor to myself and them. But I am entirely resigned to God, to whatever he has for me to do. I often wish that I was in the Strangers' Friend Soci- ety, for the Almighty might have something for me to do for him, and I think I can never glorify him sufficiently. Yet 0, my dear friend, I am like a sheep without a shepherd ; I have no one to lead me by the hand ; I am myself a stran- ger — ^yet I would fain become a stranger's friend. If I could flatter myself that I could be in any degree useful, I should never be tired in being spent for God. " However, I sit me down and mourn over my fate — if I may use the word — and my misfortune in being torn from you at such an early stage of our connection. You are indeed my father in Christ ; and whatever glory may re- dound to my heavenly Father through any weak eflbrts of mine, must eventually be attributed to you. I bless God, my love to him is daily increasing, and I am determined, let others do as they will, I will serve the Lord. I hope you arc grooving more and more. to the fulness of the measure of Christ; and that Mrs. French enjoys a continued sense of the approbation of her great Master. If I never meet you again on earth, I am certain I shall meet you in heaven ; for thither I am resolved to hasten, and I am as certain you will embrace me there. " Do not neglect to answer me fully. " May God have you in his holy keeping, is the earnest prayer of, " Dear sir, " Your unworthy, but affectionate, "JOHN SUMMERFIELU." 40 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. A brief note in reply, dated November 29, 1817, contains the Ibllowing exhortation : " Wait God's appointed time in all circumstances. 1 wrote to Mr. Shaw about you ; he will, 1 know, do what he can. God is your best friend, trust him ; when you least expect it, his promise will be con- firmed. Let prayer be your constant exercise. Value the Bible as your faithful companion. Rise early in the morning for reading and prayer, and frequent the ordinances." EFFOmS 10 DO GOOD. 41 CHAPTER IV. BEGINS TO KEEP A DURY- ATTENDS SUNDAY-SCHOOLS — GH^ES AN EXHORTATION — INCESSANTLY STUDIES THE HOLY SCRIP- TURES—ATTENDS AN IRISH WAKE- FILIAL OBEDIENCE— FALLS INTO TE-AIPTATION. ^ ^ The preceding chapters exhibit a somewhat rapid sketch of Mr. Summerfield's hfe, from the time of his birth to the twentieth year of his age. Of the remaining portion of his brief but brilliant career, more ample and detailed notices will be expected : happily for the writer and readers of the memoirs of this most interesting servant of God, his own industry has left materials the most abundant and satis- factory. From the time of his conversion, until the period when he could no longer hold a pen, with some interruptions, he kept au exact diary of his hfe. In projecting this elaborate register of his daily actions and experience, Mr. Summerfield might justly have coUoquized with himself in the language of the most eloquent and powerful of modern British essay- ists.* " The little rill near the source of one of the great American rivers, is an interesting object to the traveller, who is apprized, as he steps across it or walks a few miles aiong its bank, that this is the stream which runs so far, and which gradually swells into so immense a flood. So, while I antic- ipate the endless progress of life, and wonder through what luikuowir scenes it is to take its course, its past years lose that character of vanity which would seem to belong to a train of fleeting, perishing moments, and I see them assuming the dignity of a commencing eternity. In them I have begun to be that conscious existence which I am to be through infinite duration ; and I feel a strange emotion of curiosity about this little life, in which I am setting out on such a progress : I cannot be content without an accurate sketch * Foster. On a Man writing Memoii-s of Himself. 42 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. of the windings thus far of a stream which is to bear me on for ever." This iavahiable document, in a transcript of certified accuracy, now hes before me. It appears, indeed, from an expression in the passage presently to be cited, that this is not the earliest diurnal record which Mr. Suramerfield had kept : whether, however, that has been preserved or not, appears uncertain ; it is not among the papers transmitted to the present writer. The " Journal," as it is entitled, is thus introduced : " 1818, January 1, Thuk-Sday. Commenced this year in Whitefriar's-street meeting-house on my knees, at the watch- night. " I felt the presence of the Lord, and my soul was fed with good things. 0, that I may prove faithful this year. I have often dedicated myself to (rod on a similar occasion, but as often have violated my engagements ; yet this year I am determined, let others do what they will, I will serve the Lord. " ^Yhen I call to mind the mercies of the past year, I am quite lost in contemplating the goodness of God : " ' Where shall my wondering soul begin ?' The last year was truly a year of trial and great affliction to our family, as may be seen in other parts of my former diary. What this year may bring forth, I know not. But 0, my Father, whatever thou maycst have in reserve for me in the womb of thy providence this year, prepare me for it. Thy will be done. I am satisfied to pass through 'poverty, if it is thy will ; only let me be always rich in faith tow^ards thee. If I should be intrusted with temporal riches, may I consider myself as thy steward, to whom I must give an account ; and keep me always iioor in spirit. If this should be a year of sorroto to me, yet may I be enabled always to rejoice in God my Saviour. If a year oi joy, yet may I EFFORTS TU Do OOOD. 43 swroio that I do not love thee more. I am thine ; do with me what thou wilt, only bring me to glory." The following entry, under the same date, refers to an engagement which is the more precisely noted here, for a reason which will presently appear : " Eight o'clock. After preaching, was invited by my dear brother, my class com- panion, to come to a prayer-meeting in Whitefriar's-street, appointed for supplicating a revival of God's work among us this year. While on my knees, an unknown hand tapped me on tlie shoulder to pray ; it was the first time I ever prayed in public : I began in weakness, but, glory to God, good was done and I ended in great power. The meeting continued till eleven o'clock." Three days afterwards, he notices his attendance at the Sunday-school in the forenoon ; and in the afternoon, that he went to arrange "for our new school in Weaver's-hall." In the evening of this first Sabbath in the year, he went to Whitefriar's-street, to hear his " beloved Mr. Wood" preach; and there he " renewed the covenant with fear and trem- bling :" on reaching home he wrote, "Eleven o'clock. On my way home I was musing upon what I had done : saw that I had married myself to Christ, to take him for better for worse, through honor and dishonor ; and I saw the beauty of that passage in the Revelation, ' Behold, the Bride- groom Cometh ; and the bride, the Lamb's wife, hath made herself ready.' 0, may I be pure and chaste and spotless, and worthy of this high honor. The family were all in bed and I had a fine opportunity, which I improved by fervent prayer ; my soul was watered abundantly." The following evening at the class he experienced a still more distinct manifestation of the divine presence and appro- bation ; he says, " Though I obscured myself in a dark cor- ner of the meeting, yet God saw me and I was called upon to pray, though there were many in the meeting much more able. I never experienced so much freedom ; I have reason 44 REV. JOHN SUMMEKFIKLD. to believe it was owned of God; three souls were set at liberty ' from the bondage of their sins.' " At the conclusion of this day, after having prayed three times in public, he exclaims, •' Where will all this end ?" The next day he was unanimously voted a member of the " Praying Association," which engagement required that he should exercise his gift publicly in the chapels, as well as in private houses ; upon receiving his appointment for Cork-street chapel, he repeats the exclamation, " Where wiU this end ?" When the season for his public officiation in the chapel arrived, his apprehen- sions were disappointed ; he not only felt liberty but com- fort. This prepared him for the next turn when, in conse- quence of the local arrangements, his duty required him to ascend the reading-desk : he had never before been so con- spicuously elevated, and experienced in consequence a good deal of agitation. Having a slight impediment in his speech,, he was apprehensive that he might stammer in giving out the hymn. But he found how true was the divme assur- ance, " Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee ;" he felt no hesitation, and much good was done. He next ventured to speak his experience at a " fellow- ship-meeting ;" and on the 18th of January, at the instance of his " dear class companion," he was induced to give a brief extemporary exhortation at the conclusion of a prayer- meeting, held in Sweeney's-lane. To use his own words, " I arose with fear and trembling ; it was the first time that ever I exhorted," so formally, he means, "in public or private. Glory to God, he was my mouth, and though I feared the impediment in my speech, I found no efiect from it. I sung and prayed, and i believe good was done." Thus, in the short space of three weeks, this sincere and zealous disciple of the Lord Jesus graduated from the first public exercise of his talents in an obscure prayer-meeting, to the earliest display of those higher pulpit qualifications, for which he became afterwards so preeminently distinguished. It is EFFORTS TO DO GOOD. AG a case happily illustrative of that peculiarity in the system of Methodism, which provides for the development and oc- cupancy of whatever degrees of piety or intelligence may be possessed by any of its members. Many persons will doubtless be inclined to regard this rapid advancement on the part of Mr. Summerfield either as very presumptuous or very precocious. Some of his slower- paced contemporaries were not slack in exercising this pre- rogative : without, however, the slightest disposition to im- pute improper motives to these inquisitors, it is gratifying to know that the subject of them was not only not offended, but that he evinced at once his growth in grace as well as m gifts, by the spirit and manner in which he received — perhaps wholesome — animadversions. Those who were fond of order in the prayer-meetings charged him with being "too enthusiastic ;" and, which grieved him the mostj^jrofessed to doubt whether he had even "experienced the pardon of his sins." These allegations induced him to exclaim in secret, "'God, thou knowcst my heart. Thy glory is the sole end I have in view ;" and the next day, after studying the Scriptures for two hours, he adds, " This day I have been more earnest at the throne of grace than ever I was before. I have prayed six or seven times at great length that I might not be deceived, and felt my soul melted down in the furnace of love." At this period, besides attending to numerous religious engagements and studying the holy Scriptures systematically and almost incessantly, h& was employed in various house- hold duties, which his past indiscretions having contributed to impose, his present humility influenced him to perform. He likewise devoted a certain portion of each day to the edu- cation of his younger sisters ; and withal, attended to the settlement of various accounts connected with his father's concerns. The adjudication of these afikirs was irksome to his spiritual sensibility, by bringing him into contact with 46 REV. JOHN SITMMERFIELD. persons and circumstances urigeiiial to the growth of piety ; and in one instance especially he very narrowly escaped an unpleasant exposure in connection with the marshalsea. His own account of this accident is as follows : " I had this day a miraculous interposition of divine aid ; I was in a strait, owing to some error I had committed in 's business, confined in the marshalsea, which would have remanded him. I cried unto the Lord, and he delivered me. He caused that the mistake was not perceived by the officer of the court, though seven persons were remanded for a far less trifling mistake. I wdll glorify thy name, Lord my God." The custom oi ivaking with the dead, although of great antiquity and extensively prevalent in L-eland, is so fre- quently connected with social broils, and other circumstances of indecorum, that it would be much "more honored by the breach 'than the observance." This practice, however, is not confined either to the poor or the ignorant ; and the sub- joined passage from Mr. Summerfield's diary at this period, will show that even such an observance may be turned to spiritual account : "Eleven o'clock, I went to a wake of a dear brother, who had died the day before in the Lord. Five of our brethren accompanied me ; we sat up all niglit ; the room was filled with a mixed society, Catliolics and others : we redeemed the time. Having obtained the consent of the relations of the deceased, we commenced singing a hymn, which is a most unheard-of thing on these occasions, the time being usually spent in mirth. I then went to prayer: after this we spent the night between singing and ])raying, and exhorting and religious conversation, and our little labors were owned of God. Some were struck by his word and wept aloud. Glory to God." * * ^^ Filial obedience is a most excellent and much too rarely practised Christian virtue. It is not only the "first com- mandment with promise" in the law of God, but happily EFFORTS TO DO GOOD. 47 one of the" rnoai beautiful and early instincts of our nature. Alas, how soon does the depravity of the human heart man- ifest itself in rebellion against parental authority ; and it is a no less painful truth, that frequently the spiritual children of God fail rightly to reverence their earthly parents. It is indeed matter of lamentation to see hovv^ many fathers and mothers, instead of themselves obeying the divine injunction to bring up their children "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," seem rather willing, by their negligence, to re- lease their oflspring from this paramount duty. It has already been shown that the elder Mr. Summerfield was a man of God : to the utmost of his ability he brought up his children in the w-ay that they should go. His son John, especially after his co^iversion, not only duly reverenced his father as such, but regarded him as a Christian professor of rare and ripe experience. He appears, however, to have inclined towards a degree of strictness with reference to the subject of these memoirs, which might be partially attribu- table to the past misconduct of the latter. At prayer-meetings, and other means of grace, as well as in religious conversation with Christian friends, Mr. Sum- merfield was sometimes detained until a late hour in the evening : this exposed him to the dissatisfaction and remon- strances of his father, who had generally on these occasions to sit up, or rise from his bed to let him into the house. "While the diary before me contains towards the commence- ment of his spiritual career some entries — generally com- punctious — on this side of the question, it presents correla- tively and throughout innumerable records of the most deli- cate and afiectionate expressions of filial admiration as well as respect. "January 24. At family prayer this evening, the close of the week, my soul was well watered. My father returned thanks most beautifully for the mercies of the past year, which was spent in Lower Mount-street ; and most pathet- /!8 REV. JOHN SITMMERFIELD. ically imjjlored Jehovah to dwell with us iii^this'liousc, not as a transient guest, but as a stationary friend. In survey- ing the past year, 1 am lost in thought ; the arm of the Almighty has been made bare on our behalf, and has wrought miraculous deliverances for us. We have known the want of bread last year, and yet in this state our neces- sity proved the Lord's opportunity. 0, my Father, if my soul ever forget thee, may my right-hand Ibrget her cuu- ning. 0, that all men would praise the Lord for his won- drous works, and for his loving-kindness to the children of men. For my own part, my heart is this evening ready to burst with a gust of his praise. Glory, glory, glory." " Sunday, January 25. This being the first morning in our new abode, and also the morning of the Lord's own day, my dear parent dedicated it to His service, whose it properly was. My soul was melted down, and I hope received more of the heavenly mould. I remarked that my father was specially thankful to God for afflictions — nay, he even prayed to be further chastised if God saw it expedient, that he might be drawn nearer and nearer to his Father. How unlike many professor.?, who repine at these things — and even I, Oh, what a lesson have I to learn." It is painful to shade so beautiful a picture of family re- ligion with the following passage, referring to the evening of the same day: "Eleven o'clock, arrived home — the family all in bed. And now a scene occurred which stole from me every blessing I had got to-day. Satan truly presented himself to me as an angel of light in this temptation. My father reproved me for being out until so late an hour, and tlireatened the consequences if I continued in the practice. It was suggested to my mind by the author of all evil, that I was suffering for the cause of Christ. The bait was well gilded: I swallowed it. With this idea, I returned some very improper answers 1o niy dear parent, which wounded EFFORTS TO DO GOOD. 49 him ill the teiiderest part ; he not knowing that I was con- nected with any prayer-niceting." For the first time since his conversion he retired to rest without prayer. He rose at seven next moming, " but couhl not pray :" he felt that he had grieved the Holy Spirit, and saw that he had fallen ; and his compunctious visitations derived an additional pang from the fiict, that although it was his duty to have apologized to his father, his father almost apologized to him. His mind was in a mo.st abject and distressed state ; he felt he had sufieretl loss in his soul ; and could not even bring his mind to go to his class in the evening, but early retired to bed. In a dream of the night he was particularly impressed with this passage : " If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Fatlicr, even Jesus Christ the righteous." He rose early next morning, con- vinced that this was a monition from God ; took courage and instantly set about recovering the happiness he had lost. He attended the soldiers' prayer-meeting in the evening, "and again tasted that the Lord was gracious." On the 3 1st of January he writes thus : " This is my birth- day. When I take a survey of the mercies of my past life, and consider my poor returns, I am sunk in the deepest hu- mility before my God and Father. But I now give myself anew to his service ; I feel I am not my own ; and as I am this day at that maturity which the world calls of age, when we cease to be children, I am fully determined to cease to be a child of the devil's any longer. My father gave me most loving advice to-day. 0, may I improve by so good precepts." 50 EEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. CHAPTER V. STUDIES INCESSANTLY— THINKS ABOUT THE CHRISTIAN MINIS- TRY—HEALTH VERY DELICATE— RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE- AR- DENT PIETY. The man who illustrates by his own practice a mode ol' cultivation by which two acres of" ground may be made to produce twice as much as they did before, is really a greater benefactor to mankind than he who shall discover an island of two thousand acres extent, with but little prospect of its ever being cultivated to any good purpose at all. So the individual whose religious experience exhibits most explicitly and successfully the progress of that groAvth in grace, and the manifestation of those "fruits of righteousness," that "peace and joy in the Holy Ghost," which are expected to distinguish every true believer in Christ Jesus : such indi- vidual does more towards recommending the cultivation of evangelical virtue among mankind, than he who presents unexpected peculiarities of Christian character. In the moral, as in the material world, there exist, doubtless, im- mense tracts of terra incog)iita ; but both, in a certain sense, appear to have their limits : and it is as frequently the case that great men are the creatures of circumstances, as that they are the voluntary creators of their own high destinies. If Summerfield had been born in the dawn of Christianity, he might have been an apostle ; a century or tAVo later, he might have won the crown of martyrdom ; as the contemporary of Luther, he might have been a reformer : on the other hand, had Columbus been the coAtemporary of Cooke, he might, like him, have circumnavigated the globe, and witli him discovered sundry groups of islands in the vast Pacific ; a hundred years later he might, with Parry, have penetrated towards the pole. It is said might, in the fore- going assumptions, beoause in bolh eases the spirit was the DESIRE FOR THE MINISTRY. 51 same, but its operation was limited as well as modified by circumstances. A greater than Columbus may bo born, but the world probably does not contain an unexplored tract large enough to immortalize his discovery : a greater than St. Paul may be converted, but — and with reverence be it spoken — Christianity has not an untilled field equal to that which lay before the apostle of the Gentiles. These remarks are suggested, perhaps gratuitously enough, by the acknowledged fact that the diary of Mr. Summerfield, although rich in the memorials of happy experience, must nevertheless be regarded as comparatively poor in incident. This lack of what the world looks for as "spirit-stirring" matter, is abundantly compensated to the Christian reader by the very circumstance of its details consisting mainly of what may be deemed the every-day trials of faith and pa- tience, and overflowings of love and gratitude — which self- observers, who converse much with their own hearts, know well how to appreciate in one another. Nor is it perhaps either quite fair to the subject, nor absolutely required by honesty, to concede even so much. Events which, from their romance or rarity of occurrence, or the magnitude of their operations, are so absorbing in many narratives of merely worldly interest, leave nevertheless, in most cases, but a fugitive impression ; while in that little world of thought and feeling which lies within the circumference of every human heart, there are incidents perpetually transpir- ing unobserved by the great Avorld without, but which are of universal interest, either as developing moral phenomena, or as having a general connection with the hopes, the fears, the joys and the sorrows, the aims and the enterprises of all mankind. It has already been intimated how assiduously and un- remittingly Mr. Summerfield at this time applied himself to the systematic study of the holy Scriptures, in connection with the usual ('.xpositors of sacred literature. Under the 52 E.EV. JOHN SITMMERFIELD. date of February 12, 1818, he writes, "This day I purpose getting a jlmt. aiul steel, as my fire is so often out that I am obHged to lie in bed till daylight, as was the case this morning." On what small things frequently depend our convenience, our happiness, nay, the most important issues of life itself The purchase of a flint and steel for a few pence added at least two hours to his day during the winter months. Time is often cheaply sold, sold for naught ; here it was cheaply bought : the value of the bargain to Sum- merfield he noiv knows far better than he did at the time, highly as he prized it ; for every moment well employed on earth has its record and its reward in eternity. How much his usefulness on earth may have been improved by this recovery of time — the most precious talent, next to the grace of God to use it well — it is vain to speculate now. But let nobody who reads of this simple incident, despise it ; let no- body be 'afraid or ashamed to go and do likewise — to go and buy as much time, whether by the sacrifice of sixpence, or of an idle habit or a mischievous indulgence, as will purchase much temporal, spiritual, and eternal enjoyment. It appears ^ that he was now in the habit of rising between four and five in the morning to his studies, and rarely retiring until near midnight. " Feb. 13. After private prayer, house matters, an hour and a half studying Romans, read Young's Night Thoughts till ten ; breakfast, etc., till quarter past ten, when I resumed, studying Romans unceasingly till halfpast twelve. Rec- reated in domestic affairs till one o'clock. Resumed, and continued unremittingly until a quarter before three; dined, etc., etc.; half-past three again resumed the Romans, 'at which continued until half-past five, with an intermission of half an hour, during whieli time my beloved John, my [class] leader, visited me. Halfpast five to halfpast six, prepared to go out, domestic affairs, and private prayer ; then went to the soldiers' prayer-meeting; fron\whioh I returned DESIRE FOR TlIE MINISTRY. 53 a quarter before eij^ht ; then supper, and Ironi half-past eight to half-past ten studied Prideaux's Connections, vol. 3. My iather not come honie, alarmed me, and so unhinged my mind that I could read no more ; I sent the children to bed, and spent an hour in prayer to God, and serious self-exami- nation. About half-past eleven my father came in, and at twelve I went to bed. I watered my pillow with tears of love to my sweet Jesus, and closed my eyes as if in his arms." The foregoing is a fair sample of his diurnal occu- pations at this period, especially if we add to it the reading of Boss' Antiquities of Greece, and such items as the follow- ing : "My father then came in; dined, and spent an hour in conversing with him on 7th Romans." * * * The aspirations of Mr. Summerfield's mind were almost exclusively turned towards the work of GotI, and his ardor in devotional exercises M'as so absorbing, that the interven- tion of merely secular duties was not only cold and uninter- esting, but was frequently regarded as damping his spiritual enjoyment. Indeed, the following entries show with what reluctance he engaged in worldly conversation. "Prayer- meeting in Park-gate street ; Jesus was as good as his promise ; we were all blessed. When I came home, my father chid me for my neglect in and 's business ; my mind was so unhinged I could not study for some time ; however, we had family pniyer." " Went over to the mar- shal's, where I was detained on business till near one. 1 then called on Wm. in street, and Avas pressed into the parlor, where were two ladies, in whose copipany I spent two hours. I feel it was wrong ; my soul suflered loss by it." How tender Avas his conscience. Few persons could see any sin in spending two hours in respectable soci- ety ; nor perhaps was it otherwise wrong, than as .he felt it so much time lost from communion with God. How few even of his fathers in the gospel would have manifested such sensibility ; and to how many who might be disposed to 54 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. chide lam for it as a weakness might the young disciple reply, in the words of the Saviour when twelve years of age, "Wist ye not that I must be about my father's busi- ness ?" March 1, in ihe morning, alter having spent three hours in self-examination and prayer, he writes, " 1 look lor a spe- cial blessing from heaven to-day." In the forenoon, "My sold is like liquid gold this morning : it is softened by love ; Oh, Father, now lay on tny blessed seal." At eleven o'clock, "Went to Sunday-school, which I opened by prayer; came away along with and , but I find an un- speakable loss in my soul in consequence ; their conversation was of that loose and almost indecorous nature, that I find I have lost my centre by mixing Avith them, and am quite imfit for religious duties." Again: "Went to 's on business for my father ; they are an ungodly family ; I have lost by my visit ; a lady was there, who compelled me to wrhe an acrostic extempore. I was to blame for yielding." Next morning, he exclaims, " that I had not paid that worldly visit last night." Thus anxious was he to respect that excellent rule, of Methodistic discipline, "Be serious; let your motto be, Ilolitiess. to the Lord. Avoid all light- ness, jesting, and foolish talking." At tills period his health Avas very delicate, and he was especially subject to a grievous headache ; this, united M'ith tlie intensity of his studies, and the apparent necessity that existed for him to set about helping his father in some way, induced him to think of giving up the management of prayer- meetings ; and for some I'cason which does not so clearly appear, his attendance at class also : still, howevei-, he resolved to continue to pray that he might know the will of God concerning him, and especially with reference to the ministry. Having experienced considerable relief to his head in consequence of following the example of Mr. Wesley, who DJiSlKK FUR THE MliN'lSIRY. i')5 under similar circunistauces consented to have his long hair cut ofi', he still continued his usual attendance at the means of grace. In one instance he observes, "I gave the whole five shillings [part of which was borrowed] to my class. Whether right or wrong, I know not ; but my poor heait pitied Zion. Only six members attended it. 1 was fpute dispirited, and got no blessing under the means ; my mind is now, on this account, fully removed from all thoughts of the ministry ; and I informed my father that I was bent on assisting him at his business." This is the first time of his naming the ministry in his journal as an object of contem- plation with him ; but it is evidently a memorandum of only one of the conflicts in his mind on this point, and the despondhig result of many a previous one. God, however, whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, and whose ways are not as our ways, so far from being about to desert his faith- ful servant to the errors of his own imagination, appears rather by this process to have been humbling hiin preparatory to the display of more distinguishing spiritual revelations. On the Sunday following, he went to the fellowship- meeting in Gravel- walk. " A better time -was never remem- bered ; several were set at liberty. I sung, prayed, and ex- horted. My cup did indeed run over." Next evening he adds, " "Went to my class. I am astonished at the goodness of God : He makes my cup run over. I concluded by prayer, and the Lord owned me tcojidcrfullij ; many declared it was the best class we ever had. God can raise up stones to praise him." Mr. Summerfield from his childhood mani- fested a disposition the reverse of stoical, and this he mainly inherited from his father. Strong feelings were famiUar to him — high enjoyments or deep distress — his cup running over with sweetness or with bitterness. These very frames, so exquisitely quick to feel and to be moved by every touch of joy or woe, gave his whole subsequent life — especially in his ministerial labors — its peculiar character, and constituted 56 REV. JOHN SUM.MERFIELD. him the preachci- who could by sympathy raise the most powerful and passionate emotions iu his audiences. The exercises of his mind were at this time very vio- lent — feeling as he did a desire to be devoted wholly to the service of God, and at the same time a necessity laid upon him to give more of his attention to some kind^ of secular labor. Still, however, he clung close to the rock of his help : towards the middle of March he thus records his lamentation and his resolution : " How little have I studied in the past week: I am resolved to give new edge to my exertions." "Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find," is the language of Him who holds the dispensation of all spir- itual blessings ; and Summerfleld was not one who pleaded coldly or unbelievingly lor any of the precious promises of the gospel ; and on this occasion especially, he experienced a new and deep baptism of the Holy Ghost. Being on a Sunday afternoon, with a few other religious persons, at the house of a friend, he writes, "I was never in my life pos- sessed of such feelings. While sitting in silence, the words, 'I have loved thee with an everlasting love,' flashed into my mind in so sweet a manner that I could not contain : I burst into tears ; all wondered at the cause ; a hymn-book was handed me ; I sung and prayed ; and that night I received an unction from the Holy One. Glory be to Jesus." "When he awoke next morning, he "found the fire alive within: the love was burning." At half-past six he went to the prayer-meeting, where, says he, " my soul was so overpow- ered with the love of Jesus, that I wept amain. I was oflen inclined to go out, that I miglit roar out the paiitings of my soul. For the first time, dear brother M'Dowall called on me to pray. I scarcely could utter words for weeping ; but my heart was full, full, full. Many will re- member the morning." The habitual tendency of his soul towards the object of DESIRE iuil iilE MINISTRY. 57 its supreme love is striliiiigly indicated by such entries as the following: "Being alone, I snatched the opportunity and spent half an hour in secret intercourse with heaven. 0, tliat I could pray always. Three to five, unceasingly studied Taylor's Key. Being again left alone, I snatched another half hour to converse with my Beloved." "My sis- ters went out, and Jesus did certainly spend those three hours with me." What blessed opportunities were these to him, when the members of the family were all absent and he was left alone, yet not alone, for Jesus made his sweetest visits to him then, as himself testifies : "My sisters arc gone to spend the day out, and I am alone with Jesus." Summerfield tcatched — lay in wait, as it were, for S2)e- cial opportunities for private devotion, when he could unin- terruptedly cry aloud in prayer to God. How much have they to answer for to their own souls, who never enter into their closets, shut t.o the door, and pray to their Father which seeth in secret ; or if they do, slink from secular en- gagements to this duty as to a task, and come away, not lightened of a burdened conscience, but as if released from a penance necessary to keep conscience quiet under its bur- den. what a mercy it is to feel that burden intol- erable ; to lie down under it at the Redeemer's feet, like the woman who was a siimer, and though we speak not a word for shame and sorrow, determine never to rise again till he says, "Tliy sins, Avhich are many, are forgiven thee :" at least, never till we know that we are sincerely and with our whole heart asking the blessing, and believing that we shall have it according to our faith, in the Lord's time. That time indeed is now — for all His time is now, who is "the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever;" but sometimes ours is "not yet." Even then when he comes to deliver, He may say to us, with the rebuke of kindness, "0 ye of little faith, wherefore did ye doubt?" A few miscellaneous entries from his diary at this time, 58 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. may be with propriety introduced here. "Spent two hours in reading Clarke, and discoursing on it with my father, from whom I received more hght than from the doctor." This commentary was a great favorite with him, and "un- ceasingly studied " at this time. The truly spiritual writings of Fletcher, however, were still more deeply interesting to iiim ; and it is not too much to suppose that his whole soul and character received a very powerful bent from the con- templation of this able and pious author. He devoted some time to the "learning of short-hand, trusting that it might he of use," and likewise "exercised on the piano." His taste for music had been cherished, if not contracted, at the Moravian seminary ; and might justly be cultivated as an accomplishment not without many advantages to a preacher. With reference to stenography, he appears either not to have studied it successfully, or to have abandoned it as inconven- ient in practice, as no traces of it are observable among his papers ; a circumstance of no regret to his biographer, who, whatever be his opinion of its utility in many cases, feels glad that he is absolved from the task of decypheriag it in this. "March 22, went to Werberg's church, and i^or the first time received the memorials of the death of my Lord. It was to me a most solemn occasion, and I could indeed feel- ingly say with the poet, ' My Jesus to know, and fed his blood How, 'Tis life everlasting — 'tis heaven below.' " Being invited to take breakfast out, he observes, "As I purposed this day to mortify the body, I took two cups of tea ; afterwards was called on to pray — all the family were asseiTibled." At noon, he adds, after studying for two hours Clarke on the Hebrews, "The family then going to dine, I walked out pursuant to my design, and went to the Park ; having found a sequestered spot, I wrestled with God till near four o'clock, and was greatly blessed. Returned home, and after domestic matters, went to the soldiers' meeting, DESJRE FOR THE M1NJ.STRY. 59 where I sung and prayed." After reading the foregoing memorial of" his fast, and when we recollect that his retire- ment to the park was in the cold month of March, we can- not, without being aflected, meet with the following item about a fortnight afterwards : "April 12. This is my dear father's birthday, aged forty-eight. Dined on cocoa, as we had no money. It is much better than we deserve." * * * (30 KEV. JOHN SUMMERFlIiLi). CHAPTER VI. KKCE1VK.U AS A LOCAL ITtKACIIER— «l'lKlTUAIi KXKKCISES— vi,S ITS FOR THE "STRANGERS' FRIEND SOCIETY ''—ANXIETIES ABOUT HIS MINISTERIAL C2VLL— EXCESSIVE FASTING— REMOVAL TO CORK— ENTIRE DEVOTEDNESS TO GOD. We now- come to contemplate Mr. Summevfield in his introduction to that high and important otTice which had so long been the object of his ardent aspirations. As a prayer- . leader — as an cxhortcr — as a visitor of the sick — as a Sun- day-school teacher — as a speaker at the conversation-meet- ings of Christian brethren — as a class-leader — as a ricli and fluent scripturist — and above all, as a young man of fervent piety and of deep experience for his years, Mr. Sumrnerlield was iustly esteemed by those of his friends who were best ucfjuaiuted with him, as the possessor of gifts and graces far above the ordinary rank. While, therelbre, his youtli and the oilicial responsibility of his elders justilied the prudence exercised towards him, his own conduct from the period of ids conversion to the termination of his lile, never aliorded a single incident to lead any individual to suspec-t, much less to say, that his elevation had been too precipitate or his progress too rapid. It is well known to persons acquainted with the econ- omy of the Methodist society, that between the description of persons whose engagements are intimated above, and the regularly itinerating ministers, there is an important class of laborers designated local iveaclicrs. : individuals of accred- ited piety, whose mouths God has opened to call sinners to repentance and to declare to them the salvation that is in and by Jesus Christ. These men, unlearned as they often are, deserve not oidy to be regai'ded with honor "for their work's sake," but with astonishment on account of the orig- Kli ENTERS I'HE MINISTRY. 61 inal talents and uncommon experience which many of them possess — men who during the week labor incessantly for the bread that perisheth, and on the Sabbath eloquently declare from the pulpit the Avonderi'ul works of God. In this rank of preachers, therefore, Mr. Summcrfield took his place ; and it was while graduating therein that his pulpit ministrations attracted towards him such unwont- ed popularity. It may, however, be interesting to notice some of the steps by which he ultimately as a regular preacher ascended to the sacred dosk._ He had frequently delivered brief and occasionally more lengthened exhortations at prayer-meetings and elsewhere, as well as expatiated upon given passages of Scripture at religious "conversation-meetings;" but he had never spoken publicly from any text, until Thursday morning, April 23, 1818, when, being at the six o'clock service at Gravel- walk chapel in Dublin, he was called upon to officiate in a more formal manner. But his own statement of the case, made only for his private record, and in the simplicity of his heart, will be acceptable : "Mr. M'Dowall commenced by singing and prayer, then called me forward to read and exhort. I never spoke before from any passage in the word of God ; this, then, was my first attempt. I read part of the fourth chapter of Paul's second epistle to Timothy. My Master was with me ; I spoke fluently, and though I have a deil'ct in my speech, I felt nothing of it. 1 take it to be a token of good from God. 'Whatever thou hast for me to do, prepare me for it; only make me a holy Christian.'" His second attempt was on the Monday following, at the same chapel. " I had," says he, " to carry on the meeting alone. I sung twice, prayed twice, and exhorted for about half an hour on the thirteenth and fourteenth verses of the first chapter of Ephcsians ; this is my second attempt, though this was more immediately in the form of a sermon. I felt great liberty, and I hope good was done." After a few days 62 REV. JOHN SUMMEltFlELlJ. he repealed the experiment at the same chapel, preaching from Rev. 2:1-7. * * * Having found access to the pulpit and acceptance among the preachers, he resolved to devote himself with double dili- gence to secure the richer and more abundant outpourings of the Spirit of God upon his own soul. For instance : " May 6th, rose at five, and retired into the garden for med- itation and prayer, which occupied me an hour. I find I should grow in grace more, if I prayed in inivate more ; all the imhlic means of grace will not compensate me in this respect. By the grace of God, and relying on his divine aid, I purpose beginning from this day to pray in private jive times every day." However improbable it might be that he should long keep such a resolution, or however question- able the propriety of taking it upon him at all, it appears from subsequent allusions that it was observed by him at least for some time, with religious scrupulosity and corre- sponding advantage. Every thing done faithfully to the Lord has its peculiar reward. They who have most largely experienced the influences of the grace of God, and consequently discovered most deeply the innate corruption of their own hearts, are alone able to understand what is meant by those temptations from the world, the ilesh, and the devil, to which a spirit seeking to increase in holiness is peculiarly exposed. To such only will the following sentence be at all intelligible, occurring as it does amid notices of prayer almost literally " without ceasing," and the most unremitting exertions for the salva- tion of souls : "Unceasing meditation oii the word of God, private prayer, and self-examination in the presence of God. my sins of oinis,uon, omissio7i, omission. " 'Lord, grant me mercy for the past. And grace for time to come.' " Such was the daily practice, such the ingenuous confession of the conscientious John Summerfield, when a Christian of HE ENTERS THE MINISTRY. 63 little more than twelve months' standing-. " Who then is that faithful and wise servant, whom his Lord when he Cometh shall find so doing," that he shall not have occasion, not only to say, " I am an miprofitable servant, I have done only that which it was my duty to do," but rather to cry, " Omission, omission, omission." Sunday morning, June 14, half-past eight, " Came home from preaching ; my mind was in an unusually happy frame this morning; I could weep all the day long; I fear some temptation is at hand — I could scarcely restrain my feelings under family prayer. I retired immediately to the garden, and such a sweet powerful time of prayer I don't remember." This is a very touching scene of personal expe- rience ; but still, amid this rush of happy feeling a still small voice whispered, " Rejoice with treinbling :" he was so happy that he feared some temptation was near. These are deli- cate but perilous feelings ; and we shall often be discouraged if we measure our love and faith by the sensible measure of peace that passeth understanding, and joy unspeakable and full of glory, which are permitted only as occasional ante- pasts of heaven, while we are travelling through thorns and briars in a world yet under the primal curse — though, wher- ever that curse has reached, blessed by the footsteps of the second Man, the Lord from heaven, who is with his servants always and everywhere, even to the end of the world, when they preach the gospel. ^ * * Among other pious engagements which about this period occupied the attention of Mr. Snmmcrfield, was that of taking appointments ou behalf' of the " Strangers' Friend Society." * * * The field of labor opened by this society attracted him soon after his conversion : " I, who am myself only a stranger in Dublin,'" said he, " am anxious to become a strangers' friend." It may here without impropriety be noted, that "social meetings" for religious conversation, at which the mem- 64 RE V. JOHN SUMMEItFIELD. bers of the various societies in Dublin took breakfast or tea together, are still kept up ; and iu them is maintained a general and profitable religious conversation, which is mado a peculiar blessing to the persons present. These interviews were very interesting to Summerfield, and frequent allusions to them occur in the diary. The following exhibits a deli- cate trait : " Attended our social meeting. Arranged for the ensuing breakfast ; it is my turn to invite. I will therefore invite my father, as we expect William Bunting, Mr. Gaul- ter, etc., to it, and I knoAV I could not give him a higher gratification." On the 23d of June, he made the annexed memoran- dum, which appears too interesting to be omitted: "Mrs. C has desired my father to let me spend the entire of this day with her dying son. May I go filled with the spirit of prayer. I went. I stayed there to breakfiist, and remained till two o'clock. He is very happy ; I read Bax- ter's Dying Thoughts fn" him. and commented thereon : I prayed with the family ; my own soul was watered also." After dinner, he adds, "Mrs. C has desired me to spend the whole night with William. I am very unwell myself; yet if it be the will of my Master, I will go, notwithstanding this." He went accordingly, but found his friend "no more a mem ; he was now become an angel. I remained with the beautiful clay all night. that I was landed as safely beyond the stream." How short a time sufficed to realize this ardent aspiration. The precision with which he notes the various emotions connected with the composition and delivery of his pulpit discourses, and his record of the slightest intimations of ap- probation or otherwise, expressed by the preachers, both tend to illustrate the undoubted fact that he very carefully w^atched every movement of the finger of God in this ino- rnentous ailair. Indeed it is evident, from several incidental expressions, that his mind was laboring from day to day in HE ENTERS THE MINISTRY. 65 anxious suspense, as ii" he waited for some provideutial change, some call from God, which should decide the future course and complexion of his hfe. He seems less to have aimed at a distinct object, consciously at least, than to have expected some such manifestation as should decide /or him: it is indeed abundantly evident, that with heart, soul, mind, and strength, he had been preparing for the ministry, and longing to be clearly and effectually brought into it, not of his own will only, but by the will of God : indeed, the former appears to have been so resolutely submitted to the latter, so conscientiously sacrificed to it, that he was hardly aware of its survival in himself This entire resignation accounts too for that absence of anxiety, so nearly resembling indifference with w^liich he re- garded any prospect of a permanent situation : for instance, after naming an individual, he says, "lie proposed for my acceptance the probability of a situation in of sixty or seventy pounds per annum. Judging that this might be of God, I told him that if it offered, I would not refuse it. If it be thy will, my Lord, open thou the way." The way however remained closed ; God had other work for him to do. =5^ * * After mentioning with great humility the fact that at one place in the country there had been but five hearers on the preceding Sabbath, but that he had a congregation of twenty; and moreover, that one of the friends complained, that, as some of the young men who had been sent out there were not such as they liked, they would only receive three, he adds, " Lord, make me more humble. 1 was one of the three. Thou, Oh my God, shalt have the honor. I will put the crown on no head but thine. Have I a gift ? Thou bestowedst it. Oh, grant me more grace." After preaching in the evening of the same day,' July 19, he thus writes in the diary: "It was a season of blessing here also. Go where I will, if in the true spirit of sincerity, I meet my 66 REV. JOUW SUMMEIIFIELD. Master. God wonderfully subdued the thoru iii my flesh; I never spoke with such fluency and ease to myself. Bless and magnify thy God, Oh my soul. I am now fasting thir- teen hours ; I have walked many miles, and twice preached till I am quite hoarse ; yet I am neither weak nor weary ; I could go again, if called to it, to hold a third meeting. He wonderfully supports my body ou these occasions ; though I want bodily food, yet having fed my soul, I feel no lack." It is not quite clear from these words, whether the pro- tracted abstinence to which they refer was casual or vohui- tary ; but from Mr. Summcrficld's practice, the latter is rather to be apprehended. * * * Mr. Surainerfield is now to be viewed as laboring in a new section of that extensive field of usefulness providen- tially opened for' him in Ireland. His father had been for some time engaged in the management of a general machine manufactory in Cork ; to this city, at the call of his" father, this youthful, lovely, and zealous apostle of our Lord Jesus instantly repaired. lie left Dublin for Cork on the 23d of July, 1818, and arrived at the latter place on the following evening, and contrary to his expectations, was no worse in body next morning, although he bad ridden on the outside of the coach, and been thoroughly drenched with rain. * * * The next day being the Sabbath, he piously and appro- priately remarks, "This morning I had that leisure which I could not before meet with since I came to Cork. I bought up the moments, and earnestly dedicated myself to God in this novel country ; t besought his grace to enable me to walk circumspectly before all, and preserve a conscience void of offence. I scarcely recollect so great a sense of the divine presence. May I watch the finger of Providence in this my call to this part of the country, and trace his hand in all the events of my life." The divine hand — for it was manifestly no other — soon pointed out a way of employment very different from that HE ENXEILS THE M1N1STR\^ 07 which was the more immediate ohject of his visit to Cork ; for although he entered promptly upon business, and sundry entries occur of his diligence therein, yet his talents and piety being discovered and appreciated, he was presently almost exclusively engaged in preaching for one or other of the Methodist ministers, who really appear to have had too little consideration about his delicate frame, upon which he had no mercy himself; while the people exercised still less ibrbearance in the mode and measure of their approbation of his pulpit labors. These things find their solution, per- haps their apology, in the fact, that the uncommon fervor of his discourses was generally accompanied by abundant inanifestations of the divine presence. ' The Ibllowing iiaivc entry occurs under Sunday, Aug. 2 : " This promises to be a high day with me ; I found Jesus truly precious iu my morning prayer. Ten o'clock, went to Patrick-street ; heard Mr. Waugh on peace in all things, by all means, etc. And now how can I describe my feelings when, after morning worship, Mr. Stewart rises up and pub- lishes these words: 'Brother Summerfield from Dublin, a member of the Strangers' Friend Society there, will preach at five o'clock this evening at Douglas : Brother Summer- field from Dublin' he repeated. I knew not whether I ■ was sitting or standing, I was thrown into such a state of perturbation. He mistook me ; I am no member of that society ;" [not perhaps in the strict sense, but he had often preached for them ;] " and to invite immortal souls to come to hear 77ie .' and this my first regular sermon, exceeded the powers of my mind to bear under. I hurried home, and found the way to my closet, and found my God there. Glory to him." At five o'clock he repaired to the preaching-house, which was crowded to excess. After casting himself by private prayer into the arms of his blessed Master, he gave out a favorite hymn, " Oh, what shall I do my Saviour to praise," and then preached three quarters of an hour fi-om 68 REV. JOHN SUMMERl'IELD. Romans 8:32. He felt frreat liberty in the "pulpit, and pi-obably regarded the whole service as a happy presage of his future destiny, for he thus writes concerning it: "Thus have I commenced on this, to me, memorable day. And now, ' I '11 praise my Maker while I 've breath ;' ray heart warms in the work, and 1 am determined to lay myself out for God." How emphatically he acted upon this determination, the subjoined entry relative to his engagement on the following Wednesday will partially show : " Seven o'clock, I set ofi' to Blackpool ; the place was again crowded to excess. Oh, my God, did I ^peak, and did they hear for eternity ? I was as wet with the heat as if I had been dragged through water. I over-exerted myself; preached near an hour, besides the singing and prayer ; but who could forbear ? If 1 injure my body, 1 cannot restrain. 1 hurried home, muliled up as well as I could, and got to bed." Well might his record next morning be, "I find myself very unwell from last night, and therefore obtained a respite from further labor the remainder of this week ; which time I employed, as good George Howe says, in mending my net, nay, more, in employing the aid of Him who can direct me how to let it down on the right side of the ship." A day or two after- w^ards, when called upon to pray at the public ba7i(h, a kind brother whispered in his ear, "Take care lest the sword cut the scabbard." This metaphor, which is proverbial, is yet hardly a correct one. Of what us.e is the sword in the scabbard ? by rusting there, it may consume it ; but the body is something more to the soul than the scabbard to the sword. The metaphor, however, though it will not exactly "go on all fours," is sufficiently expressive of the danger to be apprehended to the delicate form of our young preacher, when his "soul was sharpened," to use his own words, by a sense of the presence of his Master. It was ever Mr. Summerfield's solicitude to avoid not HE ENTERS THE MINISTRY. 69 only the evil communications of those who were evidently the corrupters of good manners, but likewise all utmecessary conversation with the professors of religion at times or on topics not convenient. The following item is quoted for the purpose of accompanying it with a remark which, although it may be disregarded, need not be taken amiss: "After preaching was over I hurried home to my closet, lest I should lose the blessing by conversing with any one." Would that Christians in general had in them a disposition to "do likewise." How frequently are the good desires and holy feelings derived during divine service, dissipated by that frivolous conversation, or at best, that semircligious twad- dle, which is so often heard on the breaking up of our con- gregations. * * * 70 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. CHAPTER VII. SUMMERFIELD BECOMES A POPULAR PREACHER— PREACHES AL- MOST INCESSANTLY— MINISTERIAL ANXIETIES— TRAVELS AND ADDRESSES LARGE AUDITORIES IN IRELAND WITH GREAT SUC- CESS. * * * ^Ir. Sumjierfield's popularity at this time fre- quently brought him into very trying circumstances. In con- sequence of some slanderous remarks which had been made concerning him, he resolved to lay aside his public labors in Cork for the present, and even to give up an engagement to preach which he had made there ; this was August 28. Next morning, while travelling on tlie steam-boat to Cove, he ob- serves, "My mind was much led out into the case of Jonah : like him, I was fleeing from the Lord's work, in which I should have been' engaged to-morrow, being appointed for Douglas. I prayed that my God would pardon this my sin. I would gladly have returned to Cork, if I could have done so ; how- ever, I vowed to him that 1 would not again shrink from the cross, and anew committed my soul and body into his hands." A few days afterwards he was distressed by the injudi- cious affection of several of his friends, who, when he had done preaching at Passage, "dragged him in diflerent direc- tions," and as he could not go with all, some were offended; but, as he justly exclaimed, " WhaJ. could I do? If I could leave an arm here, and a leg there, I would. My God, keep me very, very, very humble. I told them that I feared they would ruin me by making me think of myself above meas- ure, and begged, if they loved me, they would desist." Let the friends of popular young ministers affectionately consider this. If it might not with truth be affirmed that Summer- field was absolutely insensible to svich adulation, if cannot be denied that he was as little improperly affected by it as perhaps any human being in his circumstances could be. His dislike of participating in any engagements which MINISTERIAL LABORS. 71 were not exclusively spiritual iu their object or tendency, has been repeatedly noticed. Ou the first of September, after mentioning the kind entertainment which he met with in a respectable family, he adds, "After breakfast, spent a good part of the forenoon in singing and playing sacred music. But 0, how unlike the song of Moses and the Lamb." In the afternoon he was induced, much against his inclination, to join a boating party, which had nearly been connected with fatal consequences. I use his own words : " I am not fond of this kind of amusement ; but I could not refuse. We were sixteen in number ; and were most providentially preserved from a watery grave ; being thrown into the most imminent danger, and glad to get to the shore, struggling, through the water on a bank of mud and quicksand, which nearly destroyed us. '"0, how shall I with equal wannth The gratitude declare, That glows within my ravished heart?' " * * * He was now engaged almost incessantly, at one place or another, preacliing the word with increasing accept- ance ; but the struggles of his mind respecting the probability of his receiving a call to the work of the ministry iu the regular manner, and his providential situation at this time, were strong and frequent. He was, indeed, placed in a most delicate and dilFicult predicament : conscious that while he pursued his present course he Mas neglecting in some degree the business upon which he came, and at the same time anxiously looking for some opening whereby God would bring him more fully into the ministry — that blessed work for which his ardent soul panted to be entirely given up. "0, my God," says he, "willing as I am to be spent iu thy service, thou knowest I often cry out, ' Send by whom thou wilt send, but not by me;' and yet thou hast replied, 'My grace is sufficient for thee.' ". He had a irreat mi willingness that hi.> flxthor sliould hear 72 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. him preach, and had given up one appointment on that account. On the loth of Septeuiber, he preached in Black- pool chapel, iroia Rom. 8 :32. Messrs. Waugh and Stewart sat with him in the pulpit. But, on this occasion, he re- marks, "I never was so embarrassed as 1 found myself — I never disliked my own discourse more. I hid my face after- wards, and almost vowed 1 would never .again stand up to preach." the infirmity of man : unwilling to be hum- bled ; dissatisfied if he cannot please himself in serving God. The congregation was large ; and, added to the per- turbed state of his feelings on this account, what was his surprise to learn, on his arrival at home, that his father had been one of his hearers. This discovery, and the recollec- tion of his defects, abashed him a good deal. His father, how^ever, assured him that he had been profited ; and a pious man, to whom he mentioned his temptation to desist from preaching, warned him in God's name not to do it. Next morning he went to preach in Patrick-street chapel. Here he exemplified the danger of relying too much upon present "frames and feelings," without taking into the account other evidences of the divine favor. The follow- ing and several similar statements prove, in Mr. Summer- field's case, as in many others that might be mentioned, how emphatically it may be asserted, that he who has " abundance of revelations," needs no other — needs no sharper thorn in the flesh, no messenger of Satan more tormenting and harassing than this — the perpetual bufiet- ing of the temptation to seek his own glory, while he is pro- moting God's. But to quote ihe entry referred to : "If ever the enemy was permitted to buflet me, surely this was the ■ tjme. I had my thoughts taken from me, and in this state I began to roam, I know not wdiere. I would have given the world to iiave been out of the house ; and after I had concluded, I remained till all the people had retired, that 1 mirodigy.' " Besides the crowds of ordinary hearers attracted by his popularity, many persons of rank and influence Avent to hear him ; and in one instance the E.ev. Mr. Fleury, son of the archdeacon of Waterford, sat with him in the pulpit, a mark of respect not often shown to the Methodist preachers ; but, above all, God was eminently present in the congregations. It must be regarded as a felicitous circumstance for Mr. Summerfield at this time, that while he was in the habit of MINISTERIAL LABORS. 77 receiving numerous letters of invitation, and indeed of com- mendation, from ministers of the gospel, his correspondents were men of experience in the ways of religion, able and willing to give him the best advice with reference to his spiritual prosperity. Letters lying before me, written by the Rev. Messrs. Hamilton, Cooper, Robinson, Matthews, Cobain, Stewart, etc., all breathe the same spirit. Brief extracts from the two last will exhibit the bearing of the whole. Rev. E. Cobain says, " what shall I say to one I love so dearly? Lie at the foot of the cross; keep close to the Bible; sit loose to the p-aise of men. If any good be done, sink in the dust before God and give him all the glory." Rev. W. Stewart : " If I had only one advice to give you on the sub- ject of preaching, it would be — preach Christ and him cruci- fied, and a free, full, and present salvation, through faith in his blood ; whether you preach to children or grown persons, to the rich or to the poor, to saints or to sinners, to the crowded auditory or the humble few, let this be your theme, Jesus and his salvation, salvation from sin," etc., etc. On Sunday, the 8th of November, he preached at Cove his frst missio7iary sennoji. He undertook the duty with fear and trembling, but God aided him, and the collection was larger than on any previous occasion. On the following Sunday he preached for the same purpose at Waterfurd, and notwithstanding that it rained heavily at the time of service, the collection was double the amount of the preceding year. After preaching at Ross one evening, to a large congre- gation, he thus alludes to an unpleasant interruption : •' The devil did not like my sermon ; he annoyed us by a drunken man, who threatened to pull me do"wn. Some of the hearers dragged him away, and Satan was disappointed." A very proper representative of his satanic majesty — a drunken man. * * * Is there a breathing animal in human shape so great in his own eyes, or so contemptible in the eyes of others, as a drunkard in his glory ? If he could see himself 78 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. with their eyes, he would be fit to pluclc out his own, that he might never. again look them in the face. Having left Waterford, he visited successively Carrick, Piltown, Clonmel, Cashel — where he went to look at " that wonder of art, the rock of Cashel, where heathenism, and afterwards popish idolatry held sway ;" the great Dr. Coke trod the same ground before him, and he felt peculiar emo- tions on the reflection that the doctor's footsteps had been where he had the honor to tread — Thurles, Templemore, Eoscrea, Shinrone, Birr, and Mountrath, and arrived at his father's house in Cork on the 2:3d of December; having travelled more than three hundred miles, and preached, on an average, seven times a week, since he left home. He was most cordially received at Cork by his " well beloved" friend the Rev. S. Wood, who three months before had wished him "God speed," and parted from him with a " farewell kiss " at Waterford; and who now intimated to him that he should not let him be idle. This chapter may with much propriety be closed with the reflection with which Mr. Summerfield himself concluded the year 1818 : "This is the last day of the old year. what shall I say to my God for all his goodness to me in the past year ? I am at a loss for expression. My heart is too full. In this 07ie year, I have first prayed in public, and begun to preach, and preached in the metropolis of Ireland, in our largest chapel and at the most public time. 0, my God, may I grow up into thee more and more, in all ray ways. May I be spent for thee, who was spent for me ; may I glorify thee continually. Attended the watch night. I*was to have exhorted, but I did not feel my mind free to do so, and hid myself in the chapel. Mr. Doolittle spoke suit- ably on watch nights, and mentioned three in the Bible : the Egyptian watch night, when the Jews were delivered ; our Lord's watch night in the garden, and Paul and Silas' watch night." INCREASINa POPULARITY. 79 CHAPTER VIII. RETURNS TO DUBLIN— POPULARITY INCREASES— DEDICATES HIM- SELF AFRESH TO GOD— VISITS CORK— HIS FERVOR— LETTER TO HIS SISTER— FALLS FROM HIS HORSE- ABUNDANCE OF HIS LA- BORS—LETTER TO REV. EDWARD COBAIN— RECEIVES A CON- FERENCE APPOINTMENT— MISSIONARY SPEECH. The year 1S19 found Mr. Summcrfield in Dublin, the friend and favorite of all the influential Methodists in that city, as well as of many others — his popularity just setting in with all the fulness and freshness of its spring tide. Under these circumstances, it is no wonder that the excitement occasioned by his labors during the day should afl'ect his imagination by night ; and accordingly, as before observed, he was liable to dream about those things which so unceas- ingly occupied his waking hours. Notices to this effect re- peatedly occur among his memoranda. The following has reference to January 7 : " I had a dream to-night, to warn me not to be high-minded, but fear." This dream may be thought at least a very seasonable one, when considered ia connection with the fact that three days before he had preached to two thousand five hundred persons, and " felt no fear of man." Great men and good men have experi- enced very opposite emotions when standing in the presence of their auditors. Perhaps, generally speaking, the spec- tacle of an immense multitude to one Avho can speak to them, is only so far overawing as to render the sublime exhilaration of spirit more intense by that sweet and solemn restraint, under which the mind rises, instinctively, in pro- portion to the pressure upon it ; while the ellusion of itself with all its burden of thoughts and feelings into the bosoms of thousands, all eye and ear and heart, is better ordered and more eflectual than if it broke loose, and flooded tlicm and lost itf'clf, for want of regulating bounds and controlling influences. 80 REV. JOHN SUMMERFJ liILJ). On the 9th of January he agahi left Duhhn to fulfil sev- eral pulpit engagements ; at the end of the first week he found himself at Newagh, having travelled ninety-six miles and preached ten times. Ninety-six miles, and ten ser- mons, in seven days! He \vent with the speed of a chariot- wheel down hill, till the axle catches fire ; and it did catch fire, and consumed the vehicle at last. On the 20th, after speaking tltrec liours, he observes, "I now for the first time lost my voice ; the groans and cries for mercy were beyond description ; I could say no more, so I dismissed them witii a promise to preach in the morning. May God help me." Notwithstanding, therefore; that his voice had been thus taken from him in, mercy, the next morning found him in the pulpit at eight o'clock; and in tlie evening he was at Pallas, where after speaking for two hours he was obliged to desist ; and moreover constrained to confess, " I never was so ill in my life." According to his promise, however, ill as he was, he preached the following morning, though his "body almost refused its functions," and lie rather "cried aloud" than spoke as he was wont: it would be painful -to detail here the sufierings which constituted the natural sequel of such agonies of ecstasy. Now, who would have dared to quench such a spirit ? yet to those who may be seduced to follow his example, it may not be improper to give a word of caution. This con- fessedly is delicate ground ; but why not make a stand u])on it in the fear of God ? While the cause and glory of the Re- deemer was most emphatically the liriniuon mobile of Mr. tSummerfield's zeal, yet might there not be something of Ibimself'nx these preternatural exertions? it could not all be of the Lord. It would be wrong to speak dogmatically on so tender a point ; but such is the opinion of one of the most pious and judicious individuals with whom I am acquainted; who however observed that he should almost fear to utter such a sentiment, lest it should be mistaken, or misrepre- INCREASING POPULARITY. 81 sented, or abused. AYlio, after reading the accounts above, can help thinking that on sucli occasions, if amid the whirl- wind and earthquake and fire, he could for a moment have covered his face and listened in the silence of his spirit, he might possibly have heard a "still small voice" saying, "Who hath required this of thee ?" And yet, amid all these labors, he records his resolution : "I am determined to begin this week with living more in my room and in my Bible. I have lost much in this respect ; and I am too apt to walk out and trifle with my precious, precious time." He had a few days before laudably "made up his mind against Sunday dinners from home." It is matter of satisfaction to transcribe the following passage, although somewhat diffuse, from the entry which he made in his diary on the 31st of January. It shows how his whole soul was on the stretch, to be entirely de- voted to God. "Tliis is my birthday; Oh, what matter have I for shame and confusion of face. When I look back on myself, I see great cause for self-abasement. I see that ever since I began to preach, my time has not been im- proved : occupied in visiting — the destruction of some of our young preachers whom I could name — and travelling from place to place ; mixing necessarily with various companies of people, and not being guarded against that levity which creeps inadvertently upon me ; all these combined have produced a dislike to closet duties, meditation of the word, and prayer. Though I feel with shame my shortcomings, yet I am thankful that God has not given me over to hard- ness of heart ; my conscience is not yet scared as with a hot iron. I find that if I look for and expect my God to own my labors, I must live a life different from most of our preachers, for whom my heart melts. Oh, Zion I Oh, Heav- en I thy cause I thy cause I thy great concern I and yet how little it seems to occupy their attention. With regard to many of them, it seems to have become a trade, a mero 4* 82 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. form. My young heart has been led astray. I tliought to have found among them self denial, gravity, piety. But ah, where is fled the spirit of my Master ? If I expect God to bless others under my ministry of the word, I find I must not be conformed to them ; I find it necessary to swim against the stream. Too many of them preach Avhat they never practise. Oh, my Father, enable me from this day to dedicate myself afresh to thee : " ' Here's ray body, spirit, soul, Only thou possess the whole.' For the regulation of my future conduct, the following is the plan I lay down, which I intend by God's grace to put in practice. I will first tiy it for a day : if my God enable me to keep it a day, he will for a iceek ; if for a Aveek, a month, yea, continually. " Time. As I find a natural sloth attaches itself to all nry powers, which is, I believe, common to all men, I think there can be no better way of guarding against it, than in observing how every moment is spent ; and as I am per- suaded I never grew in grace so much as when I was thus employed, as in the former part of this diary when I ac- counted for every hour, so I intend renewing the same plan and commencing to-morrow, please God. Thus my con- science will accuse or applaud at the close of each day, ac- cording as my time is employed ; and on that account, I shall peruse it every night. "Allow myself no more time for sleep than necessary. "Prayer. As I believe no growth in grace will take place unless there be regular stated seasons for private prayer, I purpose attending to three such seasons at least : before I leave my room in the morning, before I retire in the evening, and at twelve o'clock at midday. Be where I may, this must be attended to ; and I must go home to perform it, as if to meet any other person. Besides this, twice family prayer, and visits to the sick. INCREASING ^OPULARlTi^ 83 " Studies. All my studies and learning to turn into the channel of" the glory of God ; to read nothing but with a view to his work, and all my researches to be subservient to the Bible — to be 'homo unius libri,' (a man of one book.') Visit none, except for God's glor}', and stay no longer than barely necessary ; guard the door of my lips ; guard against levity ; be much employed in ejaculatory and mental prayer; while lying in bed night and morning, before I sleep and before I get up, to employ myself in self examination, and this only. Take with me every day a text as a motto, to be employing my.self upon while walking, or in my leisure moments ; and this day by day. "Never speak ill of an absent person, except the glory of God require it ; in short, to do all with singleness of heart, so that my rejoicing may be, that 'in simjjlicity and godly sincerity, I may have my conversation in the world.' May my God enable me to be more circumspect ; and as I com- mence anew in preaching more from study than from art and memory, may my life be commenced anew ; and may I die in the service, and reign with him for ever." How just are the foregoing remarks ; how pious the wri- ter's determination. There may however be excess, and consequently danger, both ways, for ministers. They must not be ascetics, any more than they ought to be merry com- panions, w^asting their animal spirits and losing their gra- cious feai's even in the society of religious people. " It is not good for man to be alone," even as a minister, and a stran- ger to his people in every other character ; nor is it good to have a plurality of associates, so as to dissipate the aflections by their difTusion ; but the minister of the gospel should stand among his people as in a family circle, in which he may move and shine, and lead the way to heaven ; exem- plifying, as our Saviour did, his doctrines in his life ; and making things lovely in reality, Avhich in pulpit representa- tion appear repulsive and hard to iiosh and blood. Oh how 84 REV. JOHN SUMMEE.FIELD. good ami how ])lcasaut it is to "adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things." The absolute distribution of his time compels this objec- tion against its imitation by others — that its exemplification was soon found impracticable, even by so rigid a devotee as the conscientious Summerfield himself If men will make such fetters for themselves, they ought to make them at least loose enough to correspond with Christ's own easy yoke, and not binding and galling like the ceremonial law, which "neither wc nor our fathers were able to bear." There are sins enough both of omission and commission into which the most watchful Christian will be hourly in danger of falhng, without making occasions for shi by voluntary obligations, from which the prisoner who has thus bound his ow^n hands and feet, hke Agabus with Paul's girdle, cannot disentangle himself without bringing darkness and confusion into his mind. His determination to choose a text every day as a motto for meditation, was a most profitable and easy obligation, in which there need be no snare to entrap the tenderest con- science. He borrowed this from his Moravian recollections. In the congregations of the brethren there are two texts, and lines from certain hymns, appointed lor meditation every day in the year. The following extract from a letter addressed to Mr. Summerfield by his father, will show how devoutly his be- loved parent participated in the common satisfaction of his son's ministerial success. The letter is dated from Cork, February 4, 1819. "Take care to dwell in the divine bosom ; be faithful in heaven's first concern ; be a firm friend to her bleeding interests; live nuich in the closet, and you will be useful in the pulpit. Follow the God-Man as your example in all things ; keep" company with a Fletcher, a Wesley, and a Baxter, who will shine as stars in the firmament for ever. In you God has given me my INCREASING POPULARITY. 85 heart's desire ; and my first concern on earth is, that God may be honored in the aecompUshment of his grand design in bringing to glory the lost posterity of Adam ; and my daily prayer is, that you may be the honored instrument in turning thousands and tens of thousands to himself: this is not too much to ask of bleeding love." Although his constitution was at this period much shat- tered, his labors were unremitting. On the 9th of February, amid notices of floods of heavenly light poured upon certain portions of Scripture, and uncoiTimon sweetness in his noon- tide devotions, he incidentally remarks, "My bodily frame is quite decayed;" and yet, ten days afterwards, he notes that in the preceding week he had rode forty-one miles, and incached ten times. * * * On the 14th of February, he preached "a missionary ser- mon at Birr, and collected treble the amount of any former occasion. On the following day he addressed a large con- gregation of children at the same place, and pleased them so well that at their own desire a collection was made. He often addressed auditories of young people in after-years. Among the Moravians he had been accustomed to those ser- vices, which are very frequent with them under the denomi- nation of "Children's meetings;" and in such meetings no doubt the seed was sown which on this very 15th of Feb- ruary was producing good fruit in his own heart and life, and enabling him, having as a child "freely received" of the good word of God, "freely to communicate" of the same to little children ; aye, and to obtain an earnest in hand that it would produce ripe fruit in due season in some of their hearts. On the 27th of February he arrived safe at his father's house in Cork, and declined an invitation to preach on the following day because his "body required some rest." And well it might, as on the preceding cvenhig he thus sums up the amount of his labors : "I have now preached fifty times 86 REV. JOHN SUMMIT RFIELD. since I left Dublin this time, which is seven weeks since ; and I have in that period travelled three hundred and sixty- two miles up to Cork." A man may be prodigal of God's spiritual gifts as well as of providential ones, and in both in- stances want must follow waste, or early exhaustion be the consequence of reckless profusion. Let any learned and ex- perienced Christian minister say whether a young man twenty-two years of age, and scarcely ttaelve months old as a lyrcacUcr, did right to spend and be spent after this rate. Travelling three hundred and sixty-two miles, and preach- ing fifty times in seven weeks I "a frame of adamant, a soul of fire" would be worn out with such perpetuity of feverish excitement ; what then could a frail body viith a hectic con- stitution do, or rather, what must it suffer, in such a case ? To adopt an elegant simile from my friend Montgomery, elicited by a perusal of the forementioned entry: "I have seen fire carried in a handful of dry grass hastily, lest it should burst out into flame, to light a heap of stubble in autumn ; and I have seen it instantaneously consumed when applied to the materials thus collected. Summcrfield so carried his life in his hands ; and though he was enabled to kindle heap after heap, at last, and long before his time as man would say, he was compelled to let it drop ; it fell to ashes, for it was but tinder at the first. Let others be warned, who like him have the holy flame m their hearts wrapt round with the weeds of the body, lest that which burns within consume that which is without, and thus become itself extinct, on earth at least, for lack of fuel. It ought to be cherished ; not opened to the whole atmosphere at once, any more than suflbcated by being too closely pressed." But this devoted young man, upon whom rested so much of "the spirit and power of Elias," although he lived a dying life, experienced in the sequel as little of death as could consist with a translation from life to immortality ; indeed, his progi-ess from earth to heaven all but resembled INCREASlNCr I'OrULAIUTY. 87 the ascent of the prophet of mount Carnicl : in lUlth, in lahor, in devotion, he "went up in a chariot of fire." Who in England, Irchmd, America, hath caught his mantle? Being now at home, he was frequently engaged iu busi- ness for his father ; this, ^nd other engagements, led him frequently to lament his defective performance of many of his birthday resolutions. Indeed, the task was impractica- ble to him, as he was circumstanced ; and he who attempts to do more than he can, frequently in reality does less, because he spends much of his strength for naught and wearies liis spirit with fretting and remorse. To these chances the susceptible subject of these pages was inevi- tably exposed ; hence his frequent complaints of losing or misspending time in company, on a journey, or in his father's house. A few passages indicative of his spiritual state at this period will be acceptable. February 28. "I grew this day in grace and knowledge ; the sacred page had new beauties and ideas to my soul." March 4. "My mind has been sweetly exercising faith in Jesus this day, and I see the dawn of day." March 7. "My Jesus was precious to me this morning ; my heart was melted down, and he gave me a sweet foretaste of the good things of this day." March 8. " I am quite hoarse to-day, after yesterday's exertions ; but my Jesus has paid me for it all by a sweet sense of his love M-hich I feel upon me." March 10. "My mind is truly de- jected ; for these last two days I have been in Gethsemane. I long for the time of refreshing. Come, my Lord, come quickly. I cried unto the Lord ; he heard me and delivered mc from all my troubles. I seldom had such a pouring out of the divine glory. Bless the Lord, my soul ; magnify his great name. Applied myself to reading pnnclpally iu THE BOOK." Next morning : " Commenced my Bible again ; my mind is much happier this day than yesterday. I have a little faith, a little love, a little labor ; 0, my Lord, do 88 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. thou inorcasc it." There is nothing- more exemplary in Summerfieltl's preparations for ministerial labors, than his devoted attention to the holy Scriptures. He drew water for himself from the well-springs of salvation, and he drew it with joy, that he might refresh his own soul before he went to call aloud to others, "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye unto the water.s." Towards the latter end of March, he was seriously indis- posed ; violent pains and retchings of the stomach, accom- panied with other alarming symptoms, led him and his friends to apprehend that danger was at hand. Ill however as he was, he neither remitted his studies nor forbore his pulpit labors while he could attend to cither. He had no mercy upon himself; nor, as it appears, were any of his counsellors merciful unto him. There is but too much truth in the following extract of a letter addressed to him by the Rev. S. Steele, dated April 2d: "I am sorry to find that your health is worse than it was when you were here. Preaching so often in the week to large congregations, is too great an exercise of body and mind for your constitution ; but you will learn to be wise when it is too late. There are many of the Methodists who in their godly zeal would encourage you to preach until you would drop down dead. But remember, neither God nor man will thank you for what may be called religious suicide." And yet the main object of this very letter was to solicit his services at Roscrea. On the 13th of April Mr. Summerfield attended the aimual meeting of the Sunday-school Association, in Dublin, Mr. Sherift" White in the chair. On this occasion he deliv- ered what he calls his " maiden speech ;" for although he had prepared his mind to speak at a missionary-meeting some months before, a change in the resolutions prevented him from saying what he intended. * * * On the 19th of April he*wrote from Dublin to his eldest INCREASING POPULARITY. 89 sister iu New York, the following description of his religious experience. " The circumstances iu which I have been involved since I last wrote you, are the only reasons for this long pause ; they have been multifarious indeed : to recapitulate them would "be certainly a display of the wonderful dealings of Providence with regard to me, such as seem unparalleled ; but they are now over, and I thank God for the deliv- erance. "As my father wrote to you some time ago, you have some idea of the change which, by the grace of God, has been eflected in me : you know what I teas, God knows what I am. If you except family and filial aflection, of which I was never devoid, you may fill up the catalogue oi my conduct in any way you please. Truly '"I the chief of sinners am, But Jesus died for me.' Various were the chastisements which God laid upon me to bring me to himself — prisons, distresses, afflictions, nay, I might add death itself. This last had the efTect : while my body was brought down to the verge of the pit, my mind began to think of God. 'I vowed a vow unto the Lord ;' he knows the nature of it — he received it — I was restored to health, and by the strength of the Lord I am perform- ing it. " I began to seek Him whom I had before despised ; the world was stripped of her charms ; I saw with new eyes : Jesus was the only amiable object; while I loathe myself in dust and ashes, 'that I so late to him did turn.' However, my cry was incessant, '"Only Jesus will I know, And Jesus crucified.' " Long was my struggle for mercy, severe was my agony ; often tempted to suicide to rid myself of the pangs of a 90 REV. JOHN SUMMERF[ELD. wounded spirit; but finally the Lord lifted upon me the light of his countenance, and spoke to my heart as with an audible voice, ' I have loved thee with an everlasting love.' how was I melted ; I wept — but they were tears of joy. 1 groaned, but they were unutterable groans. Heaven pro- claimed, ' My beloved is mine ;' and my heart replied, ' I am his.' Thus I began to serve the Lord. This was October, 1817, now a year and a half ago; but Oh, what has God done since then. Last September I embarked in the same vessel with Jesus. I began the ministration of the word of life to others. Six months have I wearied this feeble body in the laborious calling, and yet I am not tired ; I hope I shall never put ofi' the harness." On the 13th of May he had a narrow escape with his life, in consequence of a fall from his horse just as he enter- ed Dublin ; that he was not killed on the spot, nor his horse injured, he gratefully ascribes to the providence of God. Had he been half as much in fear for himself, as he was for his horse on this occasion, he might have escaped with his life much longer, and not have died as he did by a fall from Idmsclf. Notwithstanding this misfortune, by which he received serious internal injury, he preached on the fourth day after- wards to a large congregation, for the benefit of a female orphan asylum. The eflect of this sermon will not soon be forgotten by those who heard it. He called to mind the afiection of his own mother, and the motherless state of his two younger sisters ; the current of emotion thus drawn out of his own bosom flowed into the current of feehng which his description drew from the hearts of others ; and the im- pression became so powerful and general that utterance failed him, and he sat down beckoning the children to stand up and finish the plea for their cause with silent eloquence. He sat bathed in tears and expectorating a quantity of blood, which had collected on his lungs since his accident ; this, in INCREASING rOPULARITY. 91 connection with his unremitting exertions, brouglit him as we shall presently see to the verge of the grave. In addition to all that has been said on the subject of " making rules to live by," see the following reflections, at the close of May 18 : " I see I have of late neglected my time in an alarming way, and I find that when time is loitered away, grace is declining in the heart. I was much struck with an advice in a magazine, ' to live by rule.' I have often resolved, and often broken ; in the strength of Christ I will begin again. I am resolved to be in bed at ten o'clock every night, and rise at four. From four to five in the morn- ing, twelve to one mid-day, and five to six evening, shall be hours sacred to God, for prayer, meditation, and reading his word : no less a proportion of time will do for me ; and half past nine to ten, before retiring. The remainder of my time to be regularly accounted for, and dealt out with circum- spection." "VYhat premeditated though unconscious suicide is involved in these resolutions I Yet who could have for- bidden the sclf-ofiering to the Lord ? Nevertheless, as already intimated, we are required to present " a livi)ig sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is our reasonable service :" we are besought " by the mercies of God," to surrender our bodies — emphatically our bodies, including our souls with all their powers and aflections — because when the body is burnt out the sacrifice is complete, as was the case with the vic- tims on the altar in the temple. Whatever service may be required in the temple not made with hands, from the spirits of just men made perfect, it will not be sacrifice. The sac- rifice on earth, then, ought to be made as perfect, as long in endurance, as possible. It will be in vain to say in defence of such self-immolation as Summerfield's, that the " fire fi'om God" descended and consumed the holocaust at once, like Elijah's on Carmel; for even if this were evident beyond doubt, Avhlch it is not in his case, let others beware lest they destroy themselves as early by a conflagration from 92 • REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. sparks of their own lundling. But what does this t;xample say to those who sacrifice ^loiliing of themselves ; or at best, bring oblations of no value to the Lord's altar ? At the close of the month of May, he proceeded accord- ing to invitation to Waterford, " where," says he, " the friends were glad to see me, and none more so than my beloved brother W. Stewart ; he is an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." At this place he was seized with a pro- fuse spitting of blood, to which indeed he had become alarm- ingly subject. His friends were justly frightened — though himself " felt happy under the affliction" — and called in an eminent physician, Dr. Poole, who bled him for the first time, and interdicted him from preaching : this was on Sat- urday ; and yet, as Mr. Stewart informs me, he was with difficulty restrained from appearing in the pulpit on the fol- lowing day. In reference to this severe affliction, he wrote to his be- loved friend and brother the Rev. Edward Cobain, under date of Waterford, 29th of May, 1819: " The present state of my health rccpiires indulgence. I have exceeded my strength. I preached in Dublin last Sunday at two o'clock, and again at seven o'clock in the evening, to upwards of two thousand people each time, and I felt such uncommon liberty that my heart was too great for the casement of the body. I exerted myself a great deal, and felt a material inward cliange in my frame on Monday. After I had preached on Tuesday evening and had gone to bed, I was obliged to rise suddenly by the flowing of blood through my throat, and it was a long time before I dare fall asleep ; it has continued since then, and last night it was very severe. " But I feel resigned to the will of my heavenly Father ; perhaps he is going to throw me aside as a useless vessel. I know he does not need my poor aid, and I believe I am as willing to suffer his will as to do it. I only desire Christ INCREASING POrULARITY. 93 Jesus to be maguified by me, and I care not whether it is by my Hfe or in my death. I feel much happier under my afihction than at any other period ; my soul is more chasten- ed and heavenly-minded, and I do hope to be a great gainer by it, if the Lord see fit to recover me. " I pant after a full conformity to the mmd of Jesus. I feel I want the abiding witness of the Spirit. I want to arrive at that state when " 'Not a cloud shall arise To darken the skies, Or hide for one moment My Lord from my eyes.' I want to know the Spirit of truth, not merely as the inspi- ration of God, but' the influence of God — not as breathing upon the soul, but a.'&floiving i?i and through the heart. I desire him as a well of w'ater springi?ig zqj to eternal life, and thus cleansing from all sin ; in short, I wish to experi- ence him as my sanctifying Lord, and not merely as my jiisttfijing Saviour. how great the change. Earnestly do I desire it. " ' Restless, resigned, for this I wait, For this my vehement soul stands still.^ " We never discover the glory of our dispensation till the ehange is wrought in us ; and yet how few press after it. Though the Christian church knows the Spirit of truth as being tvith them, yet how few know him as being in them. " To-morrow we commemorate the descent of the Holy Ghost. I look for a pcntecostal shower. may you, my dear friend, be filled with all the fulness of God." An event of great importance in the settlement, or rather, as it turned out, the tinsettlenicnt of this heavenly minded man in after-life, occurred at this period. Having in the month of March preceding been formally proposed to . travel as a preacher in the Methodist connection, and having 94 E.EV. JOHN SUMMERF IE l-D. satisfactorily answered the questions usually put to candi- dates for the ministry, Mr. Summerfield proceeded with his friend Mr. Stewart from "Waterford to attend the Irish con- ference, held in Dublin, at which city they arrived in safety on the 30th of June. His case was now ofllcially and anx- iously considered ; and it appeared, after very mature delib- eration, that the delicacy of his health at that time, and the consequent improbability of his being long able to endure the difficulties and fatigues of itinerancy in Ireland, forbade the experiment of appointing him forthwith to a circuit. And the conference was thus induced to suspend the execu- tion of their eager wish of sending him to travel, for another year, hoping that his health might in the interim be restored. Meanwhile he was appointed to fill Mr. Maynes' place in Dublin, till that preacher should return, with the other Irish delegates, from the British conference. "Alas, alas," says he, on receiving this appointment, " I know not how I can bear this burden. Lord, my God, be thou my strength." During the conference season in Dublin, the annual meeting of the Methodist Missionary Society was held there, at which the E-ev. J. Edmondson presided. On this occasion Mr. Summerfield, in moving a vote of thanks to the English committee, made a speech which not a little confirmed to the Enghsh preachers present the reports which they had heard of his piety and talents. On this as on a previous occasion, I might remark upon the difficulty, not to say the impropriety, of giving, as a specimen of a speech, any por- tion of memoranda merely made to assist the speaker's memory. 1 shall however give a passage which refers to a name consecrated in missionary annals ; it is merely the radical idea, and was beautifully unfolded in passing through the speaker's lips, but I confine myself to the words of his incipient draught : " The idea of Christianizing the Asiatic world was one which seemed too great foi" human concep- INCREASING POTULARITY. 95 tioii. Yes, sir, the very idea Avas one which could only have had birth in an apostle's miyd. But yet there was found a man among the tribes of" our spiritual Israel, possessed of a mind which conceived the grand design : to the earthen vessel which contained the deposit, men gave the name of Coke ; heaven will reveal his true name in ' that day.' In his devotedness to the service of his God and the best inter- ests of mankmd, he was equalled by feiv — surpassed by no7ie. At the feet of his Master he laid his wealth, his ease, his honor, his character, nay, his life itself. He sacrificed all ; he was the slave of slaves : unwearied in the work of heaven, no dangers could intimidate — no allurements seduce him from his one pursuit. He was like Paul, like Wesley, a man of one business. Ceylon had long been the object of his contemplation, and the fulfilment of his wishes and his prayers seemed now accomplished ; preparations made, and standard-bearers obtained who w'ere willing to carry tho banners of the cross, he quits his native shore. You, sir, followed him wcU-nigh to the beach, and little thought to see his face no more. But he is not ; for God took him. Not far distant from the promised land, his Master called him to a higher mount than Pisgah's top, to view the goodly shore ; he heard him say, ' Come up hither ;' welcome sum- mons to his waiting soul. The body of this Moses has indeed been hidden from us ; but we dispute not concerning it, for we sorrow not as those without hope : we take the Bible in our hands and inscribe beneath his name, ' Pleas- ant in life, and in death not divided.' The dispensation seemed severe to human ken ; to liim it was merciful. His death seemed without pam ; his frame was not worn with disease, nor his features distorted with agony ; and his body sunk in the flood, as it will arise in the morning of the resurrection, with a blooming, heavenly countenance. He shall not be forgotten ; for in the day when Christ shall gather up his jewels, Coke shall be collected from the ocean's 9G REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. bed, a diamond of the purest water. Pardon me, my bretli- ren, I dwell on his name with }ileasurc ; I loved the man, I love his memory still : ycnt knew his worth, you know his great reward ; and though no marble urn can boast of con- cealing his remains, his name is engraven upon all your hearts ; and while unadulterated goodness, ennobling talent, genuine worth, and sterling piety shall find one lover among men, the name of Coke shall be preserved from the ravages of time, and finally displayed with all its glories in the archives of the upper and the better world." CLOSING LABORS IN IRELAND. 97 CHAPTER IX. RELIGIOUS EXPERIEXCE— RESOLVES TO AVOID TEA-PARTIES- PREACHES AT THE REQUEST OF THE EARL OF ROSSE— A DAN- GEROUS ILLNESS — LETTER TO HIS SISTER — RESUMES HIS I,A- BORS, AND ADDRESSES LARGE CONGREGATIONS— EXERCISICS OF SPIRIT— LOYALTY— ANXIOUS TO VISIT ENGLAND. Mr. Summerfield, like most other good men who have large experience of the things of God — especially when pos- sessing temperaments as fervent as his own — was subject to many and often very painful fluctuations of religious feel- ing. These variations of the devotional temperature, so to speak, are probably much less uncommon with strong or sus- ceptible minds, than ordinary persons arc willing to suppose ; but few, very few indeed, have the faculty to distinguish with that accuracy, or would have the courage to record their discoveries with that fidelity Avhich characterizes the precious autobiographical sketches of the heart of this inter- esting individual, yuinmerlield, while all his labors might seem to be wrought amid the tempest of an enthusiasm at once irresistible to himself and his hearers, was at the same time in his "inner man" an exquisite spiritual barometer, graduated with surprising delicacy through the entire scale of religious experience. To those professors of religion who are content to live at the zero of orthodoxy, his language must sometimes appear strange indeed ; but to others, who have known something of those "deep things of God" which pertain more or less to every true member of the. body of Christ, these alternate elevations and depressions, through all their degrees, are neither unintelligible nor strange. The most exalted spirit, while compassed about with the infirmi- ties of the flesh, must never expect to enjoy a perpetually unclouded vip^iou, much less an invariable beatitude of feel- ing. A i^ew passages from the diary shall be given. "June 17. My soul Avas still more strongly led out after Sammerfeld. 5 98 REV. .101IN riUMMERFIELlJ. God this morning tlian of late. Oh that I knew where i might find him. I view myself" as the most abandoned of all sinners ; I am tempted to wish that I was openly profane, as being in a more likely way to obtain the salvation of God than in my present state. I know not what to do. Lord, pity me in my low estate. Oh make thyself known nnto me I" Here he was beset with a horrible temptation, and appeared surrounded with the blackness of darkness itself ; but lo, the very next day the cloud is dispersed : "I think," says he, "I see the dawn of eternal day upon my soul; but I anxiously cry, Oh, when will He fully appear? However, by his grace, I am determined to persevere." And pres- ently perseverance had its reward — in the following passage, " the true light shineth." "June 20. This has been one of my happiest days ; I have been greatly blessed." On a review of the dealings of God with his soul, he thus strik- ingly expresses himself on the 16th of August : " Many are the consolations which in the last three weeks I have expe- rienced ; but my experience is still variable : one day on the mount, another in the garden ; one day hardly knowing whether I am in the body or out of it, and perhaps the very next, ready to give uji the beginning of my confidence and fall from the grace of God. But I bless the Lord that his grace is sufficient for me, and in his strength I am de- termined to follow on to know the Lord." During Mr. Summerfield's temporary appointment in Dublin, notwithstanding that he preached nine, seven, and Jive times a week, he was a good deal engaged with visiting, as must generally be the case with a favorite preacher, espe- cially in a large city. This practice was not only opposed to the rules which he had laid down for the government of his time, but really injurious in its tendency. "I always feel," says he, "^that tea-parties are as so many fungi to my soul." On the commencement, therefore, of a fresh volume of his diary, he resolved "to turn over a new leaf;" and CLOSINCt labors TN IRELAND. 99 accordingly entered on its first page the following resolu- tions : " 1. Never to go out to breakfast. This squanders all the forenoon away, which is the most valuable part of my time. "2. With regard to dining abroad, as I purpose rising at four in the morning, and remaining in my studies all day till dinner-time, it may not injure me to relax my mind, but always take care to bring Jesus with me, and guard against religious- dissipation. "3. Never to breakfast or dine abroad on Saticrday. " 4. Always to return home after preaching, and never to go back to the family with whom I dined. This does no good, keeps the family up, and injures my own health. "5. Avoid all tea-parties, as they are called, as much as possible : they seldom do good." It was his practice, wherever he visited, to seek the spiritual edification of all present, and he always considered the time as worse than lost when this had not been the case. He several times visited, at her special request, the Hon. Mrs. Butler, in Richmond-place; but even here he resolved to leave a savor of his sacred character behind him ; to which end, he not only recommended family prayer, but set them an example which there was reason to believe was not in vain. The following little incident is affecting. He was at the quarterly meeting of the Strangers' Friend Society : "While calling over the names as they lay in the list, I was much struck when Mr. Tobias named John Smith ; a silence en- sued, and brother Tobias added, ' Before the throne of God f he died in the last quarter. Oh, may I work while it is called day." The brief, significant phrase, "bcibre the throne of God," comes like a voice interpreting the silence that went before. On the 15th of September, his engagement in Dublin 100 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. was terminated by the return of Mr. Mayne from Limerick. He next visited Roscrea, Birr, and Parsontown. On his arrival at the latter place, he found the family of the Earl of Rosse had made a request that he vi'ould preach at two o'clock in the courthouse. With fear and trembling he complied ; the bell-man was sent round to announce the service ; and at the appointed time, he preached to a vast assemblage of the nobility, gentry, and others, many of whom had never before heard a Methodist sermon. At first he was somewhat overawed ; but casting bis care on the Lord, he felt his usual liberty, and several of his friends afterwards declared that they never heard him preach with greater pathos and energy. Although the congregation was so large and composed of all ranks and sects, the most pro- found attention prevailed, and many appeared much affect- ed. He preached in the evening at the chapel, which was BO crowded with strangers that the regular hearers and friends stood on the outside, all the windows being taken out that they might hear. On the 10th of October he again arrived at his father's house in Cork, after having been thoroughly drenched with a day and night's rain on the outside of the coach, which had broken down twice during the journey. He was justly alarmed at the anticipated consequences of this unwonted exposure to the cold and wet, delicate as he then was ; he therefore willingly availed himself of the invitation of his old friend Mr. Edwards to spend a short time at his delight- ful residence on Hop island. He had, however, only been domiciled in this retreat a few days, when the disorder, which had long been growing upon him, in consequence of excessive labor and fatigue — certain glandular obstructions — came to its crisis. Symptoms of this complaint had for some time appeared ; " but," says he, "I knew not from what they proceeded : a curling in my tongue, which was a spasmodic affection, often troubled me ; this I have named in other CLOSING LABORS IN IRELAND. 101 parts of my diary, calling it ' a thorn iu my flesh,' which indeed it was ; but this I never mentioned to any one. All that I remember was, that my tongue doubled in my mouth ; my mouth itself and face were awfully distorted towards my left ear, my breath stopped, and reason forsook her throne. I was just enabled to venture my soul on Jesus, and saw death staring me in the face ; I expected nothing else than dissolution." On coming to himself he found his feet in a crock of hot water, the room filled with friends, and among them his father, who had been sent for to see him expire. He had however brought with him a physician, who, after taking two and a half pounds of blood from the arm of his patient, ordered his head to be shaved, a blister to be ap- plied, and other medicines to be used. For some time con- vulsions succeeded one another with alarming violence, and it was not until the following mornmg that the balance which had seemed to weigh life and death against each other, per- ceptibly preponderated on the side of hope : his numbered days were not yet come to an end, and in a short time con- valescence was apparent. It would be injustice to the kind family which nursed him in their house at Hop island, were I not to record his gratitude in his own words : " Sunday, October 17, with the permission of my physician, I rose from my bed, but dreadfully weak and emaciated. My father and family, with some kind friends, spent the day with me. Throughout the whole, the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Ed- wards were beyond all description, nor could they be equalled by any other, except Mrs. Cole. Her love to me was won- derful : may the Lord repay them a thousand-fold." So great was the anxiety created by the report of his indisposition among his Cork friends, that public prayer- meetings were held on his account : those supplications were heard, and the lease of his brief life was again renewed. For himself, he says, " I believe this affliction will have the most blessed effect upon ine ; I see the brevity and uneer- 102 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. lainty of liiunan life ; I feel nioi'e set upon heaven and heav- enly things ; my access to the throne of grace is with greater boldness, and my soul is truly melted before the Lord. 0, that he would now stamp on my softened heart his own most heavenly image." Many were the letters which, after this affliction, he received from different parts of Ireland, praising God for having again raised up his servant : this description may serve to characterize generally the contents of the whole bundle. A passage in one of the Rev. W. Stewart's letters contains the following seasonable advice : "Preach seldom, that you may preach often ; preach short, that you may preach long ; and let comparatively few hear you now, that many may hear you hereafter." * * * On Sunday, November 7, he resumed his pulpit exer- cises. After preaching in tlie evening, he says, "1 felt my soul borne above the world ; it soared very high, and I sat with Jesus in heavenly places." And at the conclusion of the following Sabbath he remarks, "For the greater part of this week, 1 can say of a truth that my peace has flowed as a river." Although now on the Conference list of reserve, and therefore filling his several appointments as a preacher, he still considered it his duty to assist his father in writing for the concern of which the latter had the management ; nev- ertheless, wishing to be entirely devoted to the work of God, he considered bookkeeping " as all lost time " to him ; " but," adds he, with exemplary propriety, " I remember at the same time that ' honor thy father ' is a command of Him whom I wish to obey." This was, however, nearly his last implica- tion with "counting-house business." At this point in his history, he wrote a full letter to Mrs. Blackstock, his sister in New York, narrating the inter- esting and alarming events through which he had recently passed. CLOSINO LABORiS JN lltELANL.. lUo " Cork, December 6, 1819. "My dear Ellen — Having just been informed of a vessel bound for New York being about to sail in a day or two, I can no longer deprive myself of the gratification I always feel in addressing you. 'Tis true this has been sel- dom of late, but I promise you it shall be more frequent if the Lord spare me ; and though my correspondence has been in time past very scanty, my mind has often wandered across the mighty deep and brought me close to the circle of your social hearth. I am satisfied of your kind assurance that you have a vacant seat for me, if Providence should direct my steps to visit you ; and as to the share I have in your affection, I can measure it by no other rule than that by which my own is measured out for you : time and space tend but to increase it, not to diminish it ; and if I should never have an opportunity of giving proof of it upon earth, I hope to be able to do so at that place where kindred spirits meet and blend themselves together in joy which is un- speakable. "You request me, in your valuable letter of June 9, to give you a particular account of whatever has occurred with regard to myself since I last wrote you ; this would require a volume, but as I know the interest you feel in my welfare, I will endeavor to give you an outline. I have my diary now open to assist my memory, and I will extract a few of the most striking incidents that have occurred to me. "If my last was dated April 19, I must at that time have been in Dublin. Perhaps I informed you of my being invited thither from Cork to preach a charity sermon for the public Sunday-schools of that city; this I did to such a mul- titude as I could scarcely give you any conception of. My Lord and Master lent me his aid, for if he had not, such a child as I am could not have addressed the thousands assem- bled on the occasion. The lord mayor and liigh sheriff", etc., came in state, and among the collectors were many of the 104 REV. JOHN SUMMEIIFIELD. rank of the city ; the collection exceeded all our expecta- tions. Next morning a deputation from the Female Orphan Asylum waited on me with a request to preach on behalf of their institution as early as convenient. I appointed it ibr the following month, and meantime made a tour through the, delightful county of Wicklow ; never had I been in this county since the time we all visited the Dargle. 0, what were my sensations, thou, God, knowest. Not visiting it at this time on a pleasurable excursion, but preaching the word of the kingdom of God. So great was our number of hearers, that I was obliged to preach in the open air ; the Lord sowed the seed plentifully in many hearts, and I believe fruit will be found from it in the day of the Lord Jesus. But I can't dwell on many particulars. The Hon. Mrs. Tiglie of E-osanna, whose son was member of Parliament for that county till his death, opened her house for me : it was a home indeed. I spent a short time in her delightful man- sion, and quitted it with regret, amid her earnest solicita- tions that 1 would spend the summer at her happy retreat. Thank God, though the Holy Ghost has declared that not many noble are called, he has not said not any ; I believe she will prove a trophy of the Redeemer's d6ath. "I returned to Dublin; but what will be your feelings when I tell you, that on entering the city I was near being killed on the spot. In the midst of life we are in death. I had rode almost twenty Irish miles that day, and my horse was a good deal jaded. Just as I was riding down Stephen's green, something as I suppose startled him, but before I was aware I was dashed olf his back and thrown over his head a considerable distance, pitching on my head on the pave- ment. When I came to myself I found I had suflered no material injury ; my hat being new, and keeping on my head, broke oil' the dreadful percussion in some degree, -or my brains would in all likelihood have been dashed out. I I'elt a jiain produced in my left side, but did not mind it, CLOSlNii LABORS IN IRELAND. 105 hoping it would Avear away. This was oii a Tuesday : the Sunday following I ventured to preach for the poor orphans. They were female orphans. Never did I preach with so much efiect : I was enabled to paint their loss in liveliest colors. I spoke from nature. Amelia and Anne were be- fore ray eyes, and the remembrance of a mother's loss oper- ated on my own feelings most powerfully. The impression was general — emotion thrilled through every heart. I could say no more ; but beckoned for the little dear ones to stand up and plead their own cause ui silent eloquence. I sat down and pleaded for them with my tears : I need not tell you the efiect. However, the exertion I had made increased my pain that night. The Tuesday following, the effects of my fall and exertion subsequent were perceived. I began to throw a quantity of congealed blood off my lungs ; and after this was removed, the fresh blood began to flow profusely : it was found that I had broken a bloodvessel on the lungs. However, it ceased towards night, and I hoped all would be M-ell. ^yednesday I set off in the mail for Waterford : it had been published for me to preach a charity sermon there the following Sunday, and I was unwilling to disappoint ; but the motion of the coach brought on the vomiting of blood, and I arrived very weak in that city. After a night's rest it staunched, and I ventured to speak the following even- ing. I know you will blame me ; but 0, my dear Ellen, could you but enter into the feelings of a minister of the gospel, you would at least pity, if not forgive. The love of Christ constrains us. I hardly need tell you the efiect which this brought on me. I was completely exhausted ; took to my bed ; had doctors attending me ; was bled ; took medi- cines; was laid under a regimen, etc., and thus suffered till Conference. The plans I had formed were frustrated. I had made appointments to preach, on behalf of the foreign missions, in the south of Ireland — say Cork, Bandon, etc., but was unable to go anywhere. Little did iny dear father 5* 1(J6 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. know the state I was iu ; however, God blessed the means, and I recovered a Uttle. I went to Conference, but was un- able to preach before them during the whole of their sittings. Mr. Edmondson was the President. You remember he was in Burslem w^hen we lived there : he was delighted indeed to see me, and invited me to his pulpit in Birmingham with all the warmth of a brother and a friend. During the Con- ference we held the anniversary of the Hibernian Missionary Society. Our chapel was crowded to excess ; Mr. Edmond- son was called to the chair : we had some delightful reports read and speeches delivered on the occasion. After the Rev. Mr. Marsden of London had addressed the chair, I was called forward and a motion put into my hand. I rose and spoke after my worthy friend as well as I was able. I was followed by some others. Indeed I never witnessed so de- lightful a public meeting. "My plans were arranged for my returning to England with Mr. Marsden, but my health was yet very bad , added to this, Mr. Mayne — brother of judge Mayne — who had been appointed for Dublin during Conference, was obliged to be absent for some time ; the Conference therefore made a re- quest that I would remain in Dubhn till his return : this I complied with, and preached in that city for three months. The duty was very severe for me in my weak state : the weather was so very warm, and the congregations so over- flowing, that it was at the hazard of my life. However, God was with me, and he suffered not a hair of my head to perish. Blessed be his name. Mr. Mayne arrived near the middle of September, and I thought now to have had rest ; but the work of God called me to Parsonstow^n, Roscrea, etc., for a few days ; and when God calls, I dare not dis- obey. While in these parts I remained only seven days, I preached eleven times and travelled one hundred and sixty miles ; but it was indispensable. The Earl of Rosse, whose residence is Parsonstown, had been very kind during my last CLOSING- LABORS IN IRELAND. 107 visit there, and gave us a most eligible plot of ground for a new place of worship, the former one being quite too small. He paid us marked distinction during this my second visit, and at his request I preached in the court-house for the accommodation of his family and those of the surrounding nobility and gentry. I believe the word of truth cut its own way. I trust those noble ones too will be among the num- ber of \\vefeiv rich who are called to eternal life. "I returned to Dubhn, and was about setting ofi" ou a northern tour through this country ; but a letter arrived from Cork, from my dear father, calling me to come to him immediately. He had heard of my exertions and feared for the event. I came to Cork : it was well I did. Perhaps if I had not come here, I might have been in my grave. The exertions I went through in Dublin, Parsonstown, etc., with the fatigues of excessive travelling, brought on a crisis in my constitution : an inward obstruction was produced, and when returning to Cork in Mr. Edwards' carriage, at whose hospitable mansion in Hop island I had been on a visit ever since my arrival in these parts, violent spasms came on ; reason left me, and when I came to mysell" I found my feet in a vessel of hot water, myself stripped, a physician by my side bleeding me to excess, and a man shaving my head preparatory to the applying a blister. "But the interval was short ; the spasms returned and succeeded each other all the day and night, during which I was delirious. My beloved father was sent for by express. He came, as he thought, to see me die. Blessed be the God and Father of all my mercies, I felt no fear. I believe that if I had died it would be to be for ever with the Lord. My life was for a long time despaired of. For a month I remained at Hop island, and now I am fast recovering, and am likely to be better than ever. The physician thinks that my illness will renovate my constitution. How- ever, my dear Ellen, do not be alarmed tor me, I will take 108 REV. JOHN SUMALERFIELD. more care lor the time to come : experience is the best of teachers. "I have again commenced to preach. Last night we had an immense congregation, while I deUvered all the words of this life. The Sunday preceding, I was in Ban- don, where I was kindly received and entertained by the governor of the town. I hope to be able to continue preach- ing, but am limited to once a iceck ; this will not distress me. "I shall now remain with my father till after my next birthday, 31st January, and then go to England. Bristol, London, and Liverpool will be my halting-places, and I pur- pose returning to Conference with the Rev. Joseph Benson. I cannot yet say where will be my final destination : when I write again I can inform you. My father has written you, so that I need say nothing on the affairs of the family: I suppose he has done this. And now, my dear Ellen, be- lieve me to be, with increasing affection for you and James, " Your loving brother, "JOHN." Throughout the whole of December, and even during the following month, the state of liis mind within appears to have resembled in some measure the aspect of nature around him: sometimes gloomy and lowering, the clouds hung about his soul and intercepted his comforts, compelling him to exclaim, "Dark, dark, dark;" at other times his mental atmosphere was bright and clear, and the Sun of righteousness shone out with full lustre. It miglit appear indeed sometimes a little difficult with unscriptural readers, to reconcile the heavenly manifestations of the love of God in Christ Jesus, which he generally enjoyed, with some of his dark and terrible conflicts and fits of despondency. As before observed, however, there was nothing in his state, however singular to himself, beyond what thousands have experienced and must experience, who look much and closely CLOSINlt labors in IRELAND. 109 at the fluctuations of feeling in hearts not made perfect in love. A debilitated body, united with a spirit of extraordi- nary intensity, exposed him in a peculiar manner to those besetments which are not uncommon with men of a similar temperament. He was often very unnecessarily distressed by dreams, which, however regarded by himself, were doubt- less the phantasmagoria of a fevered brain. Another evi- dent cause of his painful depressions was the absence of spiritual manifestations — not of the nature, but in the meas- ure which his soul desired ; ibr at this period the prevalent feelings of his mind and actions of his life were not of tho nature of the "old man," which he had long put off', with his lusts, but of the "new man," which he had put on, and whose -works were righteousness and true holiness. On Sunday, the 19th of December, Mr. Summerfield preached, on behalf of the Methodist missions, at Tralee ; on Tuesday he spoke at great length at the half-yearly meeting of the Bible Society, and on the following evening at the missionary anniversary. His addresses on both these occa- sions were well received, and judging from the sketches extant deservedly so. It may with propriety be mentioned here, that about this period he embraced several opportunities of enlarging his stock of ideas by attending lectures on natural, intellectual, and moral philoso])liy. On the lirst Sunday morning in tlie year 1820, he preach- ed in Cork to a large assembly. " I was peculiarly affected," says he, " under the first prayer ; the Lord gave to my eyes refreshing tears, and I could only sob my petition to his throne. He caused all his goodness to pass before me, and revealed to me his name. I felt him passing by. He put his hand on me, and then revealed his glory ; he covered me ; I was lost in the ocean of his goodness." And yet the very next day he laments that he " felt no gracious impres- sion," at the covenant-meeting. How little were these 110 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. vacillations of rapture and agony to be taken as proofs that he was in the favor of God, or rather, that he was otherwise. Indeed, in such a case, how can a person be sure that these are of God and those of Satan, or of his own mind, or rather of his own body ? How wise, and yet at the same time how simple, is the test of the divine acceptance laid down by Mr. Wesley, in the old syllogism, " He that now loves God, that delights and rejoices in him with a humble joy, a holy delight, and an obedient love, is a child of God. But I thus love, delight, and rejoice in God ; therefore, I am a child of God." We may unhesitatingly apply to Mr. Summerfield's case the above rule of sound judgment, which he appears not to have applied to himself, though he could apply it to the case of others. For instance, after saying of himself, " I am miserable, miserable, miserable," he goes on to state how he continued to preach, and how God blessed the word to the exinrimental salvation of the souls of others, while he himself either had not, or imagined that he had not such experience ; and if experience of this kind is to be the only test of reality, and he had it not, does it not follow that he was under the curse of God as an unpardoned sinner, and must have gone from preaching to perdition had he died at the time ? Summerficld was undoubtedly in a state of jus- tification before God, and moreover, was evidently seeking to be sanctified wholly : there is no middle state between guilt and pardon, in which a man may thus serve and fear and love God, as he appears really to have done, and have visitations even of joy unspeakable and full of glory, as he says that he had, and as we must believe, and yet all this time be under condemnation, and every moment in danger of hell-fire : such hypotheses were equally absurd and un- scriptural. He appears on the whole to have sought his religious exemplar in the celebrated Fletcher, and to the spiritual CLOSING LABORS IxN IRELAND. Ill attainments of that eminently holy man his soul perpetually aspired. "Oh, what a saint! I would, but scarcely dare aspire to his attainments ; and yet Jesus kindly whispers to my inward ear, that he has the residue of the Spirit. Oh, shed it abroad. Come, Lord, from above I" Such is Sum- merfield's ejaculation on reading the life of his pious prede- cessor ; in allusion to whom he says, in another place, "I never met with any experience so much a counterpart of my own : I mean his experience just at the eve of his step- ping into gospel liberty. I took courage, I kneeled down, I cried to God. He drew near, I set the seal of my faith to his promises of pardon through the death of his Son ; I now wait the seal of his Spirit to be applied to my heart. Lord, I must, I must believe, and now." The 31st of January, as the reader is already aware, was the anniversary of Mr. Summerfield's birthday ; on a single page under that date, in the present year, there occur in the diary two entries of so conflicting a character, that they can only be reconciled by the extreme probability that a slight mistake may have occurred in dividing the matter under the date : even this supposition leaves difierent entries singularly contemporaneous. After mentioning some con- versions which, thd day before, had taken place under his preaching, he adds, " But what shall I say of myself? Despair begins to lay hold on me, and for some days I have left oS' [private] prayer. My hell increases, and yet some- times I have a beam of hope ; in the instances I have men- tioned above, it seems as if the Lord mingled encouragement amid my despondencies ; and he seems unwilling to give me up. Oh, that I knew where I might find him." This evi- dently refers to the 30th, for in the next paragraph he writes, " This is my birthday. So twenty-two years of my race are accomplished. I have felt a good deal of the divine presence with me to-day, and I have solemnly offered myself to Him again." After devoting himself anew to God, he 112 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. adds, " 1 feel enlivened ; this next year of my life will be the auspicious year, in which I shall be introduced into the kingdom of grace or of glory ; whichever it may prove, ' thy will be done.' Amen. J. Summerfield." Still, in the re- view of his state, he writes hitler things against himself. It may justly be asked. If he was not already in the king- dom of grace, where was he ? It would be blasphemy to say that he was in the kingdom of darkness, and under the power of Satan. What was wanting to him ? Evidently nothing but some more sensible manifestation that he icm in the kingdom of grace. To multitudes, undoubtedly, such manifestation is given, and is given according to their faith ; but there must be other evidences, or a person may avdully .deceive himself, as well as harass his spirit to despair, if he has it not in the degree which he himself expects and pre- scribes, .or in which others have it. It is difficult to avoid* • yielding to a conviction, on the whole, that much of Mr. Summerfield's misery arose from bodily disease, some prob- ably from Satanic temptations, and more than either, and overruling both the former for his good eventually, from the strivmg of God's Holy Spirit Avith his spirit, to bring him, by a necessarily severe discipline, to an entire surrender of himself to the Lord ; for, followed and admired and flat- tered no doubt as he was, young, inexperienced, and san- guine, there was continual peril of his being a castaway after preaching to others, because there was continual temp- tation to preach himself as well as Christ Jesus the Lord, and to glory in his talents as well as in the cross. So deeply and steadily flowed the rivers of peace and blessedness from the throne of God into his soul, at the be- ginning of February, that he writes, " If all my days were spent in as close a communion with God as these were, methinks the change which death would introduce would scarcely be felt. I find I can trust my Father for all things ; I can cast my soul on his promise, made through the blood CLOSING LABORS IN IRELAND. 113 of Jesus, even though the seal of the Spirit should seem long delayed. 1 know and sensibly feel that I am not worthy to be a son of God ; and if he sees fit, for wise purposes, to retain me so long in the character of a servant, his will be done. I have prayed with the prodigal, ' make me as one of thy hired servants :' this he has exceeded ; he has made me a domestic. He ivill then increase in me all the good pleasure of his will. He icill yet set me on high, even among the princes of his people." Here a blessed " trust and confidence" in the faithfulness of God takes place of those " hard sayings," in which he had so frequently of late indulged against himself. Indeed, it is plain that he was more in his right mind, more calm, collected, and resigned to the will of God, and less impatient, though not less ear- nestly longing for full redemption ; for his satisfactory assur- ance of which, nothing seems to have been wanting but "the seal of the Spirit." The deed of his adoption was no doubt ratified in heaven ; though the roll, such as Bunyan's pilgrim received at the foot of the cross, and Avhich others have received there, was not yet given to Summerfield. No occasion has heretofore occurred requiring the ex- pression of any sentiment in connection with Mr. Summer- field's feelings as a British subject, nor would the opportunity of making any allusion at all to this matter have been re- garded in these pages, but for the occurrence of a passage in the diary of this devoted individual, which it would be the most manifest injustice to his memory to omit. * * * George III. departed this life on the 31st of January, 1820. On the 15th of February the pious diarist writes, " I cannot but remark on the political state of the times in which I live ; the prospect for several earthly kings is very gloomy, and yet I fear it will not drive them to seek after a kingdom in the heavens, or a crown of glory that fadoth not away. And so the British throne hath changed its monarch. Georgo the Third is counted among the leaves of autumn. My heart 114 REV. JOHN SUMMEE.F1ELD. even yet says, ' God bless him ;' I trust to meet him in my Father's house, sheltered from every piercing wind of keen adversity. His son was proclaimed king in London on my birthday. " The duke of Kent has also put off the coronet ; he died a few days before his father, and was buried on the Satur- day preceding. When death speaks from palaces, surely sub- jects should take the warning. And is England alone thus visited ? No : the heir of the French throne has been assas- sinated by another Ravaillac. Never did a darker cloud impend over any nation, than this and France at this mo- ment : may I watch the providence of God. Some Pella will be provided for them that love him. My father urges me to go to America ; he thinks it would greatly improve my health : if I thought it was the will of God I would not hesitate, but I have no light on this subject." The destruction which Summerfield, as well as some other good men anticipated, did not come upon our Jerusa- lem, and therefore the saints were not "scattered abroad" by persecution, though many were " thrust out " by a better spirit into the wilderness of this world ; and in the sequel his own way was opened to that mighty field of labor which God had prepared for liis servants in the new world. There he was, in due time, hailed and heard in his " father lan- guage," as a messenger of good tidings to those western churches, who acknowledge with their brethren all over the world, one Spirit, one faith, one baptism. From the month of February until towards the middle of May his labors were divided between Cork, Mallow, Cappaquin, Youghall, Limerick, and Fermoy. To his exer- tions must be mainly attributed the acquisition of the site of the chapel at the latter place, as the interviews and arrangements with Mr. Walker the landlord devolved en- tirely upon Mr. Summerfield, who had the satisfaction not merely to win the esteem of the gentleman with whom, on CLOSING LABORS IN IRELAND. 115 the part of the Methodists, he negotiated, but Hkewise to see the leases perfected, signed, sealed, and delivered ibr a charming plot of ground fifty feet by forty, at a peppercorn fine and rent for ever. In consequence of the intensely painful exercises of his mind, he now anxiously longed to visit the land of his nativ- ity, " not to preach, but to be instructed in the way of sal- vation." " I am," says he, " like Apollos ; I want to know the way of the Lord more perfectly." " I long," says he in another place, "to be in England, where, unknown, I may without reserve communicate my almost indescribable state to some one to whom my gracious Lord may direct. Oh, may he open my way if it please him." This prayer was heard and answered. 116 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. CHAPTER X. ARRIVES IN ENGLAND AND PREACHES AT BRISTOL-EXETER- ATTENDS CONFERENCE AT LIVERPOOL— ENTERTAINS THOUGHTS OF GOING TO AMERICA— EMBARKS FOR NEW YORK. On the 12th of May, 1820, Mr. Summerfield bade adieu to Ireland and expected presently to set his foot on the English shore ; the vessel, however, in which he sailed, and which was bound for Bristol, being detained by adverse winds at Markstown, he embraced the opportunity of once more visiting Cork and hearing Mr. Wood preach. On the 15th he reembarked at Cross-Haven, to Avhich place he was accompanied by his lather, who "loaded him with bless- ings." " Such a father I he is only surpassed by another, and that is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ." This detention in the channel aflbrded him leisure to reflect upon the time he had passed in Ireland, and the ob- jects of his visit to England. In the preceding eighteen month?, he had not only preached four hundred sermons, but had been blessed with good ministerial success ; he and his congregations had often experienced times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. In reference to an unhappy division in the church he observes, " The Methodist society was rent in twain from the top to the bottom ; and, forced out as I was in these times, it was my object to assist in sewing up the rents which had been made. To the glory of God I would record it, that I believe my labor was not altogether in vain in the Lord." "VYith sincere pleasure may be added to this record the following testimony of a reverend gentle- man who had many opportunities of judging on the sub- ject : "He preached practical Christianity in most lively colors ; and his 'sweet persua.sive tongue' so recommended ' brotherly kindness and charity,' entreating his brethren even weeping to ' fall not out by the way,' that all appeared HIS VISIT TO ENGLAND. 117 to be carried away by his eloquence to spiritual union and heavenly peace ; and he was made a general blessing at that time of strife and division in the church." * * * On the IGth the wind was favorable; the vessel stood out fairly for her destination, and as the green hills of the land of his spiritual nativity receded from his sight, the anxious voyager ejaculated in broken accents of affection, " Farewell, my sweetest friends. Farewell, Ireland ; thou concealest all that I love dear on earth, yet I give you all up. The cross — but then the crown I I leave a land of friends, I fly to a land of strangers. Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife; it is for Jesus. Farewell. Adieu." On the 19th he landed at Bristol. It may here be remarked that the object of his voyage to England M'as threefold : first, to attend to some business for his father ; second, the prospect of benefiting his consti- tution ; and third, a resolution to converse unreservedly with some one on his spiritual state, and therefore to remain for some time unknown to the brethren. Providence had otherwise ordered concerning him. Immediately on his arrival at Bristol, as he was passing along one of the streets of the city in the loose blue coat which he had worn abroad, and his head so reeling from the motion of the vessel that he had occasionally to cling to the palisades to prevent himself frona falling on the pavement, he saw a number of children playing at marbles ; of these he inquired the way to the Methodist chapel. Thither he repaired, and found that " a stranger" was expected to preach that evening. Having taken his seat in a pew, he sat "un- knowing and imknown " with the rest of the congregation. When they had waited nearly half an hour beyond the time appointed, no preacher making his appearance nor any per- son attempting even to give out a hymn, the people mean- time beginning to go away, it was strongly impressed upon Mr. Summerfield's mind that he must him.self be "the 118 REV. JOHN STJMMERFTELD. stranger" thus providentially appointed. After reasoning a short time with flesh and blood, he at length broke the snare, and inwardly replied to what he considered a call from God, " Lord, here am I ; not my will, but thine, be done." He then ascended the pulpit, and under a sweet sense of the divine presence gave out the hymn beginning, " God moves in a mysterious way." He felt a little trepidation at first, but in a few minutes this text came to his mind : " Fear not, for I am with thee ; be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." He preached with his iisual freedom and unction ; and thus singularly commenced his ministry in England. A few words will explain the circumstances which thus opened Mr. Summerfield's way to a British pulpit, so con- trary to his expectation and even to his wishes : the district meeting, which had that week been held in Bristol, had terminated only the day before, and this in connection with the anniversary of the local Methodist missionary society, had brought a considerable number of preachers to the spot ; publication had therefore been made for " a stranger" on the evening in question ; but no name was mentioned, as it was hardly to be doubted but that when from forty to fifty preachers were present in the city, some stranger might reasonably be expected. No other stranger however, nor any other preacher could be found, though many of the friends actually went from the chapel to seek one. Having, in consequence of the above incident and con- trary to his intentions for the present, been induced to show the letters of introduction with which he had been furnished by Mr. Wood at Cork, he was received with much afl^ection by many of the English brethren then in Bristol. While in that city, he was kindly entertained by John Hall and Ed- ward Jones, Esqrs. Mr. Hall carried him in a chaise to Bath, where he met with and was aflectionately received by HIS VISIT TO ENGLAND. 119 that truly apostolic man — now in glory — the Rev. Walter Griffiths. On the 22(1 he set ofT to Exeter, on the business with which his father had charged him in England : this negoti- ation, however, terminated inauspiciously. " So," says»he, " my dear father is again disappointed ; he thought that the providence of God was removing him to England, but all is closed. I wrote to him the day following, to communicate the unpleasant result ; and endeavored to encourage him to trust in the Lord. Indeed, my dear father has no continu- ing city here. God in his mercy removes him from place to place, and shows him that this is not his home ; but he has given him a title through grace to a kingdom — a king- dom which cannot he moved!'' His visit to Exeter at this juncture was, however, inter- esting to himself as a Methodist preacher : the district meeting was assembled, and the anniversary of the mission- ary society of the district was held ; and as Mr. Summer- field was just come from Ireland, he was not only allowed but required to take a prominent part. Some of the preach- ers were very shy on this occasion ; and one of them had even the indiscretion to say to his colleagues, " Be cautious how you mix with the Irish brethren." This conduct de- terring the resident preachers, he was not invited to occupy their pulpits, until at the kind solicitation of Mr. Kilpin, the Baptist minister, he had preached for him in his meet- ing-house. He was then, on the following Sunday, asked to preach in Exeter ; not however by the superintondout, but by Mr. Overton the junior preacher. He had promised to be in Bristol that day ; but lest his motives in leaving a place where he had not been well treated might be misconstrued, he apologized to his Bristol friends and preached on the Sabbath at Exeter with great power and acceptance. Sunday, June 3d, he preached again at Bristol, Mr. Roberts veadinjr the church service before sermon : this was 120 REV. JOHN SITMMERFIELD. quite new to him, as was also the appearance of the chapel, which is adorned with marble monuments affixed to various parts of the interior. On the following Sunday he preached twice in St. Philip's chapel, and between these services assisted Mr. Waddy to administer the sacrament. This also was new to him ; it was moreover the first time that he had communicated in a Methodist chapel : so, after preaching in King-street chapel, Bath, he observes, " As I am always meeting wdth something new in England, I may observe that this was the first chapel in which I had met with an organ ; the hymns were played on it in a delightful man- ner, and produced good efiect." .While in Bristol, he had a pleasant interview with Mr. Thomas Exley, the ingenious mathematician ; he likewise saw several Moravian friends, and ahiong them two of his Fairfield preceptors. Rev. Messrs. Ramftler and Mallalieu. Having soon after his arrival in England written to the Rev. Thomas Thompson, his old friend, companion, and fel- low-laborer,* then statione'd at Framlingham in SufTolk, he received a letter in return, from which it may be interesting to make the following extract : " Your dear father — whom, as long as recollection erldures and a spark of gratitude exists in my heart, I shall love and respect — has now got what from your childhood he most anxiously desired, and what / knoiv he has prayed for hundreds of times. Yes, my dear John, your dear father Icnows what it is to wrestle wdth God, and he knows what it is to prevail. I have for the last eleven years, in which I have been an itinerant preacher, seen numbers of men who possessed deep piety ; but one who had greater influence with heaven, more power with (xod, than your father, I have not seen." It does not appear that Mr. Summerfield kept any jour- * Mr. Thompson was an apprentice to Mr. Summerfield's father as iron-foundercr and engineer, and for several years was an inmate of the familv- HIS VISIT TO ENGLAND. 121 nal of his feelings or his proceedings, from the period of liis leaving England lor Ireland,* nor in fact until his arrival in America. Indeed, the very latest entry in the foregoing country occurs under June 28 : when review^ing God's deal- ings with him, he remarks, "And here I have been abun- dantly blessed ; my heart has been sweetly drawn out after the ftdness of the blessings of the gospel of Christ ; and I believe I can say, I feel more truly alive to God, and have nearer access to him than for some time past." He adds, "Of the kindness of Mr. HaU's family of Bristol, I cannot sjieak in any just terms ; God bless them." While at the conference held in Liverpool, he became acquainted with the Rev. John Emory, the representative of the American conference. The interviews which Mr. Sum- merfield enjoyed with so respectable and influential a mem- ber of the Methodist church in America, though they did not originate, may reasonably enough be supposed to have thrown a halo of new interest around that project of emi- gration which Providence seems at this period to have forced upon the attention and choice of his father and the family. How long, and on wliat accounts chiefly thoughts of Amer- ica had occupied tlie minds of Mr. Summerfield and his father, may be gathered from the following extracts i'rom letters written by him to his eldest sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Blackstock of New York, in which city, as already stated, they had for some time resided : * Mr. Summerfield returned from England to Cork in August, 1820, little improved in health. His time was variously employed as before, namely, in writing for the establishment of which his father was manager, and occupying the pulpits in the dilferent chapels in Cork and its vicinity, until the 19th of October, when he was again most alarmingly attacked with the same disorder which brought him to the verge of the grave at Hop island — the very same day of the previous year. In a few weeks, he was so far convalescent that his physicians advised a sea-voyage, which was promptly acceded to by his father, who had long contemplated the removal of the family to America. J- b, SummerfieM. 6 122 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. "Temporal aflairs have not answered our expectations. I believe it was not the will ol" God that I should be buried in a secular calling. I was given to the Lord from my mother's womb ; and because I refused the surrendering of myself to the ministry exclusively, I have been scourged be- yond measure : but at last I came in, and I never mean to quit the temple service of the God whose name is Holy. "We have long talked of removing to America. If my father should not make up his mind to settle in Cork, he will certainly conclude to go without further delay ; and with regard to the rest of us, we can have no objections, notwithstanding the dangers of the passage, when we have such attractions already on that side the water ." He thought right, however, to modify the phrase, "we can have no ob- jections," by adding, "Perhaps I spoke hastily: with regard to myself, perhaps my best friends would not consent that I should remain in America ; but at all events, they could not deny me the indulgence of the heartfelt pleasure of seeing you." At the conclusion of a long letter to his sister, he says, "I often tell my friends in this country of my desire of going to America ; they will not listen to it for a moment. I do indeed desire it, if it tvere Ute Lord's ivill, but not other- wise. I long to see you, that I may be fdled with your company ; if it is his will, he will open the way." America appeared to be his providential destination. All things were duly arranged for the voyage ; Mr. Summer- field, his revered father, his elder brother William, and his two sisters Amelia and Anne, sailed from Cork on the 12th of December, 1820, in the ship General Lingan, bound to New York. The vessel being only ballasted, after a not unpleasant sail of fifteen days touched at St. Ubes, a Portu- guese harbor about fifteen miles south of Lisbon, to take in a cargo of salt. After staying at this place some weeks, and receiving every civility from the resident British and ins VISIT TO ENGLAND. 123 Americaai consuls, they again set sail. The captain of the vessel was a most gentlemanly officer, and did every thing in his power to make the passengers comfortable : added to this, the young ladies had their piano in the cabin, so that the time passed very agreeably on shipboard ; the more so, as the breezes of the Atlantic appeared to have a favorable eflect upon Mr. Summerlield's health. On the 17th of March, 1821, they landed safely at New York. 124 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. CHAPTER XI. SUMMERFIELD ARRIVES AT NEW YORK-ELOQUENT SPEECH— STA- TIONED AT NEW YORK— SPEECH— UNPRECEDENTED POPULAR- ITY—ADDRESSES CHILDREN— LETTERS— NEWSPAPER NOTICES- IMMENSE AUDIENCES AT WASHINGTON— PREACHES IN FRONT OF THE CAPITOL— AFFECTION OF HIS FRIENDS-LETTERS— PRES- ENT OF A COAT— AFFECTING SERMON. ^^- * * Presently after his arrival at New York, in March, 1821, he commenced his ministerial labors, though he was in a very indiflerent state of health. The fifth anniversary of the American Bible Society was held at the City Hotel, in the city of New York, on the 10th of May. The chair was filled by the pi'esident, the honor- ble and venerable Elias Boudinot, LL. D., then in the eighty- second year of his age. At this meeting Mr. Summerfield made a speech which produced a wonderful efl'ect, and added much to that popular estimation in which he had been rising ever since he preached his first sermon. His address, as im- perfectly reported, was thus introduced : " Sir — Before I second the motion you have just heard, permit me to make a few observations. They shall be but few, on account of the lateness of the hour ; indeed, would the time ailord it, much could not be expected from me after the able address of the gentleman who has preceded me. It only remains for us to raise the shout of victory in a cause which yet goes on from ' conquering, and to conquer.' Thanks be unto God, who always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savor of his knowledge by us in every place. Already we see the dawning of that day, the prospect of which so fired the poet's soul, when " 'The dwellers in the vale and on the rocks, Shout to each other; and the mountain-tops, From distant mountains catch the flying joy; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round.' RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 125 But while our anchor is dropped for a few hours, that we may come ashore and tell you of our past success, it aflords as at least, mispeakable delight to call to mind the dangers we have escaped, and the difficulties we have overcome. To you also it cannot but be pleasing to observe how the Bible Society has outrode every storm that was raised against her. Though we now appear in smooth waters, and have of late been wafted by auspicious gales, yet from the begin- ning it was not so. At that time we very often found it dillicult to keep her head to the wind ; and were we em- barked in any other cause, our soul must have melted be- cause of trouble. But we never forgot that our divine Mas- ter had embarked with us ; and though for a moment he seemed asleep in the hinder part of the ship, yet, contrary to the expectations of many who did not wish well to the vessel, he awoke and said, 'Peace, be still;' and there was a great calm : and again he said, ' Fear not, for I am with thee ; be not dismayed, for I am thy God. All they that were incensed against thee, shall be ashamed and confound- ed ; they shall be as nothing ; and they that strive with thee shall perish.' " li" our successes had been less brilliant than the report has .stated, nay, if our undertaking were productive of no good to others, it has at least been productive of muck good to ourselves. It has brought together the representatives of many Christian churches, and given us a common stand on which we may all meet ; and forgetting our peculiarities of sentiment in other matters, we have seen that our Lord's petition may yet be answered, 'that they all mmj he o)ie.' We approach each other in angular lines when we can no longer proceed in parallels, and meet at length in one com- mon centre — the good of the cause in which we have en- gaged ; a cause whose single object is, ' Grlory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good- will towards men ;' a cause in which 126 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. " ' Names ami sects and parties fall, And Jesus Christ is all in all.' " But the enemies of the cause object to us, that osten- tation, a parade of" piety, originated and continues Bible so- cieties. Alas, sir, Bible Christianity iia every form must obtain the reproach of this "vvorld in our enlightened age. If the inward leelings and comforts of the gospel are pro- fessed, the profession is resolved into enthusiasm ; on the other hand, if a cordial zeal to advance the interests of Christianity express itself in the most unexceptionable way, even the putting of God's word into the hands of sinful man, this humble and ardent zeal is reproached as fanatical pride. Thus inward religion is enthusiasm, and outward religion is faTiaticism ; and by a modern species of fashionable scan- dal, men having denied ' the j^otver of godliness,' decry the very form thereof ' To what shall we liken this genera- tion ? It is like unto children sitting in the markets, and calling unto their fellows, and saying, We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced ; we have mourned unto you, and ye have not lamented.' There is no pleasing such charac- ters in any way ; ' but wisdom is justified of her children.' " But objections to Bible societies are now too late ; we have swallowed the camel, and shall we strain at the gnat ? Our opponents will never be able either to suppress the eflbrts or impede the progress of Bible societies. Sooner may they arrest the sun at the antipodes, and prevent his rising to illuminate our horizon ; sooner may they confine the winds in the cave of ^'Eolus, never again to cool and refresh our atmosphere ; sooner may they stem the mighty stream that laves the mountain's sides, and interdict its progress to the ocean. Yes, the word of God shall accom- plish that which he pleases ; it shall prosper in the thing • whereunto he has sent it ; the knowledge of the glory of the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea : the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 127 " In seconding the motion of thanks to the venerable pres- ident, I am assured of the consentaneous feehng of every heart around me. When I behehl him enter the room, I felt a thrill strike througli my soul, but which I cannot de- scribe. I believe it vi^as the generous throb of every indi- vidual here present, at the sight of Boudinot ; it was sym- pathetic, and every heart vibrated in perfect unison with my own. My imagination involuntarily recognized in liim a resemblance to pious Jacob ; and ' finding the time draw near when he must die,' I fancied that he had said in his heart, 'Gather yourselves together, that I may bless you before I die.' And when one told Jacob, and said, 'Behold thy sons come unto thee, Israel strengthened himself and sat upon the bed,' and said, ' Hear, ye sons of Jacob, and hearken unto Israel your father.' Instead of urging upon you any thing as a motive to your unanimously seconduig the motion, I leave it to yourselves and the best feelings of your hearts ; nor am I at all apprehensive for the result. At the same time, you will present your thanks to Almighty God for havmg raised up such a father to your society, for having put it into his heart to ' come to the help of the Lord against the mighty ;' and as the best way of expressing your gratitude to this servant of the Lord, remember him sincerely at the throne of grace, and pray that whenever it shall please the Head of the church and God of the Bible to remove him hence, his last hours may be peace. Pray that God would speak to his heart the word which once cheered the fainting mind of Israel of old : ' Fear not to go do^n into EgyjJt ; I will go down with thee into Egypt, and I will also surely bring thee up again ;' and that borne up under this assurance, he may be able to say to his surviving friends with a heavenly smile, ' Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know.' " He attended the conference held at Troy, in the state of New York, in the mouth of June, and was admitted into the 128 REV. JOHN SUiMMERFIELD. connection upon what he regarded as liberal terms ; for having left Ireland somewhat suddenly, he had not with him a single letter of recommendation from that country. This difficulty, as it might have proved, was obviated by a letter which he received from the Rev. John, late bishop Emory, who thus, in the most friendly and aflectionate manner, interfered in Mr. Summerfield's behalf, from a knowledge of his standing in Britain. Being thus received, he Avas stationed in the city of New York ; the term of probation required being calculated from the period of his joining the connection in Ireland, which left one year only for trial, previous to his admission to the office of a deacon. After his retvxrn from tlie Troy conference, he thus writes in his diary : "Having been appointed for New York city, I have sought to ratify the same at the throne of grace. I feel as if God would be with me this year ; he has given me good earnest of it, and I enter upon my arduous duties, rely- ing upon his strong arm alone." After a few days, he adds, " I find that my ensuing year's labors will be double my expectations." "I feel as if this year would terminate my mortal existence. My body is perfect weakness : my soul sympathizes too often with my body, and wants that lively vigor and energy I so much need ; but I feel that Jesus will do all things well." On Sunday, June 10, he preached the anniversary ser- mon of the Marine church in New York, and on the follow- ing Wednesday, delivered an address in Dr. Romeyn's church, on the^rst report of the institution. * * * A brief outline of Mr. Summerfield's speech at the first anniversary of the Bethel Union is preserved, a few passages from which will not be iinacceptable to the reader in this place. Having noticed the iudifl'erence which the Christian world had sovi long manifested towards sailors, "he recollected that this neglect had been from time immemorial ; and that the opin- ions of the wise and learned sages of antiquity, although in RECEniON IN AMERICA. 129 many of tliem but Learned ignorance, had tended to perpet- uate this practice still more and more. Plato had declared that the sea was the school of vice ; and of course seamen were regarded as scholars of wickedness themselves, and teachers of it to others. But this was not the lowest opinion formed of them by the ancients. AVhen Anacharsis Avas asked whether he supposed that the number of the dead ex- ceeded the number of the living, he replied, 'First inform me in which of these classes seamen are to be placed ;' imply- ing, that though they had 'a name to live,' they were con- sidered virtually dead, and of course not worthy of any labor which would tend to meliorate their condition. "The opinions of our Christian ancestors were not much more exalted on this subject. He was reminded by a speaker who had alluded to the great and good John Flavel, of the sentiment of the good puritan with referei^ce to seamen in his day. ' The same,' said he, ' may be applied to them, which was said of an ungodly minister then living — whose pulpit discourses were so superior to his daily practice, that it were a pity he should ever leave the pulpit ; for when mounted there, he Avas as near to heaven as ever he would be : so,' says the honest divine, ' may it be said of seamen ; when tossed upon the waves, ' they mount up to heaven,' as the Psalmist expresses it — it were a pity they should ever de- scend again ; for that was as near as ever they would be.' "Mr. Summerfield observed, he could not recollect that any favorable notice had been taken of seamen by the .Chris- tian world, except that they were included in the prayers of the church of England by the petition for 'all who travel by land or by water.' But alas, in this case sailors might in some sort apply the reasoning which had been used with Reference to the Catholic priest, who \vould willingly give the poor man his blessing, but not a sixpence of his money ; which led the suppliant to remark to the ecclesiastic, that as it was evident he would not bestow it if it cost him 6* 130 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. but sixpence, so he would dispense with it. Until the pres- ent day, seamen might retort upon the Christian world in similar language. "We have iiraycd, hut have not labored for their welfare ; we have talked a good deal, but have done nothing, until the formation of the Bethel Union Society. But now the stigma is removed ; and, said Mr. Summer- field, although I must turn my eyes from the chair to ex- press it, lest a forbidding look should chill the declaration I am proud to make, there are not wanting Christians who give more than their prayers on every Sabbath-day ; who give their wealth, their time, their every thing, in this labor of love ; and who would not count their own lives too dear to sacrifice in the cause of Him, ' whose they are, and \\4rom they serve.' " The disregard which seamen are thought to inanifest for the Sabbath and every religious observance, is generally owing to a similar cause — the disrespect which their cap- tains manifest to these things. The couplet which seamen have learned, as expressive of the Egyptian rigor of their taskmasters, is in a great measure true : " ' Six days thou shalt work, and do all thou art aLle ; On the seventh, thou shalt scour the decks, and then wa.sh the cable.' " But let the captains and owners of ships show a ven- eration for the Lord's day, and seamen will respect it more. It was therefore with pleasure that Mr. Summerfield sec- onded a resolution of thanks to those captains and owners who had dared to be singidar, and whose example he trusted would be followed by many others." His popularity now became unprecedentedly great ; peo- ple of all denominations crowded to hear him. It was no uncommon thing ibr multitudes to surround the church where he was expected, awaiting the opening of the doors, so that before the time of service hundreds have had to return dis- appointed, being unable to gain admittance. And repeat- RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 131 edly these crowds have been so dense that he had to get to the pulpit through the windows. Weak as he was, it was his practice to preach on an average three times a week, besides dchveriiig addresses on various occasions. It had ever been his dehght — an uncommon merit with men so eminently gifted — to address juvenile auditories. He now made it a point to preach once a month to the children, taking up at the same time a collection for the Missionary Society. In these addresses, the children were delighted by his method of instruction : the simplicity and familiarity of his manner soon won the attention of his youthful hearers ; and then did he impress upon their susceptible minds the truths of the gospel, illustrating his remarks by the most striking metaphors, and by interesting and appropriate anec- dotes. On these occasions he never forgot the parents ; for, as he used to say, he liked to preach to the children, because it aObrded him an opportunity of speaking through them plainly and atiectionately to their parents. When convalescent from a severe attack which had con- fined him to his bed about ten days, he wrote as follows to an esteemed Christian friend. To Mrs. Garrettson. "Brooklyn, 20tli September, 1821. "My dear Mrs. Garrettsox — Will you itululge me with the privilege of gratifying some of the best feelings of my heart while I converse with you a few minutes in the way of letter correspondence. Not that I have any thing pecu- liarly interesting to communicate, except a recital of the mercy of God in some particulars which have affected me since we parted at the throne of his mercy. I have been laboring under a very severe aliliction for some time back, and this is the first day that I have risen from my bed since yesterday week. While the Lord was overshadowing my dear friends at R with the pillar of fire, and baptizing them with the Holy Ghost, he cast darkness around my 132 REV. JUIIN SU-MMERFIELD. path and ove^shado^ved me witli the cloud. I must confess 'I feared while entering into the cloud,' that I should never see you more ; and I was rather wishful to remain here a little longer for the 'furtherance and joy of faith' of many whom 1 love 'in the bowels of Jesus Christ.' My expecta- tion and hope was to have been at your camp-meeting ; but an unexpected application i'rom Trenton arrived, of such a nature that my brethren here judged it better that I should accept of that invitation. I feared to sufler my own avIU to preponderate, and accordingly yielded to their opinion. The day after I arrived there I was attacked with a complaint novel to me, but extremely afflictive — it proved the dysen- tery. It was not, however, so bad as to prevent my preach- ing on the next Sabbath. That evening medicine was ad- ministered in the hope of checking the complaint, but in vain. I was enabled by my good Lord to preach again on Monday and again on Tuesday : this was quite enough, and I returned to Brunswick on Wednesday, thence on Thursday to New York. Considering the pain I was in, and the na- ture of the complaint, I wonder how I arrived home. I did not ivalk, but c raided to Brooklyn. I took my bed immedi- ately, and this is the first morning I have quitted it. My complaint has yielded to the influence of bleeding, blisters, etc., and I do now expect that it will prove of the utmost benefit to my constitution. As it respects the inner man, I lL4t much of the supporting power of Him who yet 'bears our griclis and carries our sorrows.' I am persuaded that '■'Behind a frowning Providence He hides a smiling face.' lie ^a\\' the furnace preparing, he watched the moment when 1 entered in, he walked with me in the flame, nor Kufiered a hair of my head to be singed. Yes, '• 'I flourished unconsumed in fire.^ I have very often had to say with David, ' It was good for RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 133 me that 1 was afflicted.' I think my illnt-'.-sej; have in gen- eral the ellect of making me sink deeper into that mould "which is impressed with my favorite motto, 'humble love.' The more frequent the hfasts, the firmer docs the tree bind itself to that into which it has been planted. Planted as we have been into the likeness of the death of Christ, our afiec- tions strike still deeper, while the adverse winds of his ap- pointment strike upon the trunk and shake us to the very root. 0, to feel at that time that we are steadfast and im- movable, and that neither death nor life can separate us from His love. 0, that this -late dispensation may have au increasingly salutary influence upon my future life and con- versation. '• 'My sole concern, my single care, To watch and tremble, and prepare Against that fatal day.' "Enough of so unworthy a creature as myself How is it with my kind friends at R ? nay, I call you not friends — my relations — my fathers and mothers, and broth- ers and sisters. I feel we are owe in Christ Jesus— -one family in him, we meet and feel the bond divine. Do let me hear from you or Mrs. S. : indeed this letter is as much hers as yours. To her and you all things are common. If her stay in the country should be protracted, I will write to her when I am a little more able, for I even now feel pain owing to my state of health being so weak. However, she is not jealous with me ; she is assured of my love. "I am anxious to hear how the Avork of Liod proceeds with your neighbors. Here, the Lord is doing wonders. I believe seventy souls have been added to our society here within the last month, and many of them added to the Jjord. In New York we have the cloud rising out of the sea : it was but little, as a human hand, but it is expanding. I believe between fifty and sixty have been brought in tliere in the same time. 134 REV. JOHN SUiMMERFIELD. '"Lo, the proiTii.se of a shower Drops ah-eady from above, But the Lord will shortly pour All the spirit of his love.' A)nen and Amen. " I hasten to a close. I am quite tired : this i.s my apology for a scrawl iii my weak state almost uuiutclligible to myself. Give my respects to Mr. and Mrs. T. I hope he fell in love with the ' Altogether Lovely ' at your camp- meeting. 0, that I could hear that he was lovesick. You will be sure not to forget to remember me affectionately to all my dear friends. Yours, etc., "J. SUMMERFIELD." The subjoined letter to a lady may with nnich propriety close the notices of the present year. '■New York, 28th October, 1821. "My dear Sister — For such I trust you will allow me to call you — I can assure you it is with feelings of no ordi- nary kind that I now sit down to address you ; but I feel as if I needed no introduction : you will meet me with the sal- utation, ' How beautiful are the feet of them that publish glad tidings of good things.' Believe me, the day has not often gone by in which I have not thought of you, and prayed that the God of all grace would cause you to abound in every good and perfect work ; that he would perfect in you that which is lacking, and cause you to be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. "Startle not at difficidties. I have in general marked, that when they have crossed our religious path at our setting out, we have become more confirmed thencelbrward in our professions. Winds and storms have always the eifect of causing the tree to strike deeper root, and adhere more firmly to that into which it has been planted : and again, those trees whose roots strike deepest, are more upright in the tendency of their growth, and outtop the trees of the forest. that this may indeed become the case with you ; RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 135 that you may sink deeper into the love of God, and rise higher in the attainment and enjoyment of holiness of heart — the mind which was in Jesus — straight and tqj- o'ight, always tending heavenward, and attracted thither continually by the influence of the Sun of righteousness. I trust my dear sister has learned the happy art of fleeing to the Strong for strength — that she has often opened the treasury of heaven by the key of prayer, and by the hand of faith received out of His fulness grace upon grace. Never forget that ' man shall be blessed as much as man permits' — that the invitation is, 'Come, for all things are now ready; ask what you will, and it shall be given you; and whatsoever you ask the Father in my name, it shall be done for you.' But mark, ask in faith, nothing doubting ; remember, the condition remains ever this, ' If thou canst be- lieve, thou shalt see the salvation of God.' Whatsoever ye ask in prayer, believing that ye receive, ye shall have them ; for 'all things are possible to him that believeth.' Seek, however, the present belief for a present blessing : though it is promised that you 'shall see the salvation of God,' yet it is if thou canst now believe. 0, then, cry out, ' Lord, I do believe ' — I do noio believe ; help thou mine unbelief Be- lieve that God has given you eternal life, and that life is in his Son. And then. " ' See all your sins on Jesus laid — The Lamb of God was slain ;' '"Believe, and all your sin's forgiven; Only believe, and yours is heaven.' "May God open to you the mystery of faith; give you eyes to see that he has given you every tiling in the gift of Jesus — pardon and holiness and heaven ; believe that they are yours, and yours through the right of Jesus, and yours noiv, and you will soon receive the seal of his Spirit, as the witness of your adoption into the family of his dear Son. 136 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. Write me fully and freely, and I will from time to time com- municate sucli advice as the Lord shall enable me. Mean- time, with many assurances of Christian hrotherly affection, believe me your sincere well-wisher, "J. SUMMERFIELD." The year 1822 was one of great importance in Mr. Sum- merfield's ministerial life, and the bundle of documents re- lating thereto is rich in interesting and, I am sorry to add, melancholy memorials ; as, however, his journal — v/ith an exception hereafter noticed — was intermitted for at least twenty months, I shall introduce ample extracts from his correspondence. In a letter to his father, dated Ncav York, January 12, 1822, he says, " We are doing well here in our church con- cerns ; the Lord has graciously poured out his Spirit on the late festival occasions, and numbers have been converted to him. I preached on the watch-night in John-street, and the word was indeed accompanied with power ; it was the best season of the kind ever remembered in this city ; but particularly on last Sabbath the Lord visited his people. I preached in the evening in John-street, and after preaching, I renewed the covenant, as we do in Europe. It was alto- gether new here. It was accompanied with a great bless- ing, and between twenty and thirty souls have been added to the Lord in consequence ; besides, there is a great deepen- ing of religion in the hearts of our people, and we have peace and love in all our borders." The following extract is from a letter to Mr. Blackstock, dated Baltimore, March 5, 1822 : " On Friday morning I left Philadelphia at six o'clock, and travelled without any intermission, except about two hours, till near six o'clock on Saturday evening, when I ar- rived in Baltimore, jaded indeed. The road was good, except about fifty miles of it, which was indeed intolerable. How- ever, 1 am in good health, thaidi God, and quite recruited. RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 137 " My reception here has been highly grateful to my feel- ings as a Methodist. The attention shown me by all ranks, is more than I can well bear ; but the Lord supports me. Indeed I feel in a very unpleasant situation in a certain degree : Avhen I came to jNTew York I was uuknown, and W'hatever favor therefore the Lord gave me in the eyes of the people, was more than was calculated upon ; but here fame has preceded me, and blown a very loud trumpet indeed. Many expect from me, I almost think, something more than human, and as all such must inevitably be disap- pointed, I stand upon very unequal ground from my situa- tion in New York : there, they expected nothing ; here, they expect every thing. " I preached on Sabbath morning in Light-street church, to a great multitude, although my fatigues from travelling were great. " On Friday morning I intend to set ofl' to AYashington, in Mr. Foxalls carriage ; he is here with me, and is indeed a kind father to me. I shall be absent from here the two following Sabbaths, visiting Washington, LTCorgetown, and Alexandria, and return on the Thursday following. The next day I have to attend the meeting of the Bible society here, and in a few days after, that of the Sabbath-schools : as soon as possible afterwards, I go on to Annapolis, to brother Emory. " You need not be apprehensive concerning me, for I assure you I have found a father in brother R : he is the presiding elder in this district, and will not permit me to preach oftener than three times a week ; so that I can shelter myself under his authority, and avoid all extra solicitations. "I am at present at brother H 's ; he is indeed a kind man, and receives me ^^^th an Irish icelcome." To those who heard this devout and eloquent " messen- ger of the churches" preach during the progress alluded to 138 REV. 'JOHN SUMMEE-FIELD. ill the forofroiup: ])aragruplis, no descripliou can be necessary to recall him in llieir hearts and nieinories. Others, hoAV- ever, Avho had not that privilege, will be gratified to have their conceptions aided hy the following passages, extracted from long newspaper notices published at the time and on the spot. " It has often been asked by those avIio have not enjoyed the pleasm'e of hearing Mr. Summerfield, in what the pecu- liar character of his preaching consisted ? " The youth and apparent debility of the speaker ; the deferent and solemn manner in which he performed the ini- tiatory offices of divine worship ; and, above all, the chaste and fervent simplicity of his petition to the Eternal, swept aside all prejudice and opened every heart and every eye to the truth and ' beauty of holiness.' " His sermon was beyond comparison superior to any thing the writer ever heard, although he has enjoyed oppor- tunities of hearing, with no careless ear, many I'aithful and able ministers of the word. It was not of that declamatory kind which is calculated to excite the feelings of a promis- cuous assembly ; nor of that subtle and metaphysical texture which involves the most vigorous intellects, and perplexes the plainest truth. It was, on the contrary, a happy union of argument and entreaty ; seeking to convince and ' per- suade men' of propositions distinctly stated, cogently en- forced, and happily illustrated by natural and felicitous imagery. It was the outpouring of a full heart, seeking to disburden itself of the awful responsibility of its station, and to give vent to the 'glad tidings' of the gospel, as the Spirit gave it utterance." Speaking of his services in Light-street church, the cor- respondent of another local paper says, " It is unnecessary here to mention the text he took to expound, or the manner in which he applied the words of it in elucidating his dis- course ; it is sufficient to say, that the forcible, energetic. RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 139 and masterly maimer in which he addressed the congrega- tion — the chastity and harmony of his language — the beauty and elegance of his whole discourse — the deep knowledge he displayed of theologjs not only reflected honor upon his head, but evinced in an eminent degree, the purity and goodness of his heart as a Christian and minister of the gospel. Nature has indeed bestowed upon him the noblest faculty that can be given to man, combining in itself all the force of reason, the cogency of argument, and the propriety of deliv- ery — for such is eloquence."' Under the head of " The modern Whitfield," the "Delaware Watchman" gives a long letter from a corre- spondent at Philadelphia. " The discourses of this wonder- ful man," says the writer, " are not formed vipon the model of orators, ancient or modern. They are not made up ac- cording to the prescriptions of rhetoricians of great or lesser name ; they owe nothing to the magnificence of words or the studied graces of manner ; but they are deeply imbued with the living spirit of thought, and are dependent for their influence alone upon the omnipotence of truth and the irre- sistible energy of genius. His gestures are without aflecta- tion — few, but fearless and appropriate. His words spring free and spontaneous from his thoughts, and these gush on with one continued flow from the deep and uni'ailing foun- tain of a spirit whose source is in nature and in God." However gratifying it might be to go on with these transcriptions, which might be extended through "several pages, from other papers, the foregoing may be suflicient as specimens of the whole, at least in this place : it may suffice, therefore, to add the following, from a Philadelphia print : "Mr. Summerfield, a clergyman from England of the Meth- odist persuasion, has lately delivered several sermons in this city, which have been attended by most unexampled congre- gations, of all denominations of Christians. He is truly pow- erful both in argument and eloquence. He is an able and 140 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. strenuous advocate of the doctrines of Christianity. His last discourse previous to leaving our city was delivered yesterday morning, in Dr. Wilson's church Washington-square, in the presence of most of the clergy and a concourse of at least four thousand persons." Like a true evangelist, he em- braced this signal opportunity of expounding to his hearers one of the most vital topics of revelation : •' Seeing then that we have a great High-priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession." Hcb. 4 : 11. While this tumult of popular feeling was excited by and around him, how seasonable was the following monitory clause in a letter to Mr. Summerfield at Baltimore, by his friend the Rev. Joshua, now bishop, Soule. "Amidst the mighty crowd, I trust your single eye is lixed on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. All your honors, all your trophies, you will hang upon the cross, knowing nothing but ' Hwi cnicijied.' Watch thou in all things ; do the work of an evangelist ; make full inoof of thy ministry, holding the faith of which some have made shij)wreck. Let others attempt to eclipse the glory of Emmanuel, God icilh us, and limit the j^f^^foctions and being of the divine Aoyof ; but ours be the pleasing task to preach ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever-.'" His further progress will be best described in his own words. Writing to Mr. Blackstock Irom Georgetown, vuider date of the 13th of March, he says, " I left Baltimore on Friday in Mr. Foxall's carriage, Mrs. Foxall accompanying us : the distance between Baltimore and Washinglon is but thirty-six miles, yet we made it a two days' journey ; so that you may infer there was not much fatigue attending it. On Sunday morning, I preached in the Foundry chapel in Washington, to an overflowing congregation, notice hav- ing been inserted in the new.spapers. Although it was the Sabbath of Mr. Ryland's appointment in ordinary to preach RECEPTION IN AMERICA. Ml before the Congress, yet in consequence of his having en- gaged a gentleman of the Presbyterian church, early in the week, to supply his place there on that Sabbath, before he knew of my coming down, I had not that opportunity. However, there were about fifty senators and members of the House of Representatives present, filling round ahout the altar inside and in the pulpit ; and among the rest John Gluincy Adams, secretary of state, Calhoun, secretary of war, and others. As you may suppose, I directed my attention to subvert the principles of Unitariauism, which have un- happily found their way into Congress through the ministry of Mr. S . I had unusual hberty and boldness, with great freedom of speech ; the Lord stood by me, and I shun- ned not to declare all the counsel of God, with what effect I know not ; I leave that unto the Lord. Yesterday, for the first time, I visited the Congress : I received many marks of distin- guished attention from members of both houses ; their kind- ness was very great, and of course very grateful to my feel- ings as a stranger. I am requested to preach in the House of Representatives on next Sunday ; it is a most spacious hall, and will contain far more than the members of both chambers." The " Metropolitan and Georgetown National Messen- ger" thus describes the preacher as he appeared in Dr. Balch's the Presbyterian, church. " Mr. Summerfield is a young gentleman of no ordinary capacity, and his oratorical powers render him an object of deep and lively interest. "When he becomes animated, he appears as if the very brccif kings of the Sjnrit were on him ; and his countenance is lighted up with a fire, bright and holy, like that which ajipeared on Moses at mount Horeb. His action and eiuui- ciatiou are chaste ; his voice is rather weak, but is quite melodious, and its intonations inconceivably line ; his face wears the aspect of a vouth not out of his teens, but is mod- est and unassuming. We think Mr. Summerfield is every 142 EEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. way calculated to do good in the vineyard of his divine Master." To suppose that Summerfield vi^as himself iusensihle amidst all this excitement, would he absurd : he must have been more or less than a man to have experienced no pe- culiar emotions under such circumstances ; it is enough to assert, that his native modesty and Christian humility re- mained luichanged. How properly he estimated the flatte- ries of the press — honest and valuable as they undoubtedly were — may be inferred from a pleasant passage in the letter about to be quoted. Addressing Mr. Blackstock and of course all the members of the family in New York, he writes, " Annapolis, Maryland, March 2;), 1822. " My dear James — I promised to write to you to-day, and agreeably thereto I sit down for the purpose. My last was from Georgetown, which place I left on Wednesday last. I suppose I need not inform you of any particulars concern- ing my stay in that place and Washington, as you have probably seen my movements in the newspapers of this part of the country. Newspaper editors have not much to do at present, and therefore any novelty aflbrds them a subject for scribbling ; however, they are all favorable, extremely so : in opposition to my Newark friend, one extols my gesture, as being truly chaste and correct ; another speaks of my voice, as perfect harmony ; and another says that its intona- tions are inconceivably fine. Dear me, what will they say next ? I wish I was out of the way of all this fussbiiss, and returned to New York. I only mention these things, because I know they will only produce in you the same efiect they do in me — a pleasant smile. " On last Sabbath I intended to have preached in the capitol at Washington ; but when I went, the crowd was so immense that I took my stand on the lofty steps in front of the house, and preached in the open air. I cannot tell you RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 143 how many were assembled on foot, but the sight was very imposing, being flanked in by several lines of carriages filled with company, who retained their seats and listened with great attention, so that I infer that I was heard to the ex- tremity. The wind was somewhat in my face and rendered the exertion greater, and I contracted some hoarseness con- sequently ; but am now pretty well. " On Monday I rode to Alexandria, eight miles from Washington ; I had intended to proceed to Mount Vernon, the sepulchre of Washington's remains, but having to preach that evening I declined." The text upon which he discoursed from the platform at the eastern front of the capitol was, " We preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block and to the Greeks foolishness." " If we are to form an opinion of his merits," says the Washington City Gazette, " by his popularity as a preacher, the eagerness to hear him has scarcely been equal- led since the days of his pious predecessor, George Whit- field." Summerfield, however, was not well calculated to address out-of-door multitudes ; in voice he possessed neither the stentorian depth of the apostle of Georgia, nor the sono- rous compass of the founder of Methodism. He now turned his feet homeward ; having experienced, during his visit to the places above enumerated, unparalleled tokens of afllTtiou ; indeed he observes in a note to his friends, that he found the kindness of the good people of Baltimore " increase to so painful a degree, that I longed to tear my- self away ;" and so many presents did he receive of various kinds, that he had to get an extra trunk to contain them. In the month of April he arrived in New York, from which place, on the 2oth, he wrote to Mr. Samuel Harden of Balti- more. The following is an extract from the letter, which is one of a series o{ seventeen, addressed by Mr. Summerfield to this genUenian. " Oh, that my gracious Lord would cause all the pleni- 144 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. tilde of his grace to abound within your soul ; it is yours ; it has been purchased, claim it through the right of Jesus ; and take all the fulness of that which heaven waits to pour into the heart of him who asks, believing that he lias the very petitions which he asks through the name of the Advo- cate with the Father. I will endeavor to multiply ivonls at the throne of grace in your behalf, that you may enjoy all the fulness of the blood-bought salvation. Tell K, she must take care that Martha does not turn Mary out of the house altogether ; or, in other words, that while she is so busily employed in the missionary cause for the hoiefit of oilier^, she must not neglect the one thing which is so essential lor licrself." To Dr. Samuel Baker, of Baltimore. "Nkw YouK, April ■2,'), 1822. "My dear Doctor — 'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.' I trust that my dear friend has not realized this in the present case. Indeed, I would immediately begin to apologize, if I knew that a moment of leisure had been aflbrded previous to the one I now possess, in which to con- verse with those I love. My time has been consumed even to ashes since I arrived here ; so many anniversaries, public meetings, etc , that I have scarcely had leisure to sleep by night or by day. However, having now a breathing time for a day or two, I have concluded to write to you by way of relaxation, although obligation and gratitude imperiously demand it, even if no pleasure — no licart-fdt pleasure, were connected with it. "With what member of your family shall I commence? for you are every one before my mind, and every one within my heart. My precious Mrs. D , how is she ? Still holding on the even tenor of her way? Looking out? Sometimes inclining to say with the Psalmist, 'Lord, how long?' or with an apostle, 'I have a desire to depart and to RECEPTION iN A IIERIOA. 145 be with Christ, which is far better?' Tell her never to for- get that a thoiisa?id years are with the Lord as one day, and with him therefore there is no delay : he will come quickly. He has spared her till supper-time, and will bring her down in a good old-age. This is the best meal in heav- en — the supper, the marriage svpj^er — and soon may she hear Him say, ' Sit dowii.^ that her heart may ever re- alize the expressions of our poet : " ' His chariot will not long delay ; I hear the rumbling wheels, and pray, Triumphant Lord, appear.' And your dear partner, my Mrs. Baker — how she afflicted me when I examined the token of aflection which she gave me. I was too far from her at the time to chide her, and since then my anger is gone by. My dear sisters uttered many pretty things about the unknown donor of their little presents, and say they Avont be satisfietl with knowing her name, but hope to know her person also. I have made half a promise that in the ensuing spring, if God permit, I will bring one of them down to Baltimore. I suppose you will hear from them frequently before that time. I can only say to my dear friend, I thank you sincerely ; we all thank you heartily. But how poor a return is this. But we will re- member her at a throne of grace, and when we meet at a throne of glory, we will assist her to tune her liarp to the highest note of the redeemed — higher, and yet higher, that she may vie with them in giving glory to Him who sitteth upon the throne and to the Lamb for ever and ever. "And Miss D , is she well? My little sons and daughters, how are they? Tell William I expect great, great things from him, and trust he will not disappoint me. Remember me aflectionately to Mr. and Mrs. W and their family. When any of you see poor Mrs. G nrJi Mrs. G , for she is an heiress of the kingdom, give her my warmest aflection. Remember me to Mrs. C also. Smnmrrfi, la. 7 14G REV. JOHN SU]\i:^rERFIELD. Thank her most aflbctionately for her little treasure, and say, I ana sorry she kept it back until I had not an opportu- nity of expressing my gratitude in person. There are many other members of that family to whom I should wish to be remembered, but as you know them all, you can make up the deficiency." The fullowing letter was addressed to a highly esteemed friend in Baltimore, who, though not a professor of religion, had presented Mr. Summerfield a fine coat. "New Yokk, April 26, 1822. "My bear Friend and Brother — Your very agree- able present, and the manner in which it was bestowed, will never be forgotten. It is the first 'jeu (VeiiprW of the kind I have ever met with. I regret that it was not in my power to acknowledge your kindness personally be- iore I left your city ; but what shall I now render to you for this benefit ? I have, I confess, scarcely any thing within my gift. If I could transmit to you the garment of salvation, I should indeed be able to recompense you fully ; though not half so fully as if you received it from the Author of salvation : this is a gift which is enhanced by the dignity of the Giver ; and he has therefore reserved it to himself to bestow it. This gift, however, will not be yours in the same way that your gift became mine, for he requires that you shall ask in order to receive it, and has only promised his Holy Spirit to them that ash him. My coat indeed becomes me well ; it- fits me better than any coat I ever had, and its texture is supcrexcellent. But, my dear friend, the garment I would recommend to you would become you still better, and would fit and adorn you more than any garment you ever wore. As to its texture, it is emphatically said to be 'fine' — not comparatively so, but positively 'fine;' and that alone is 'fine, clean, and white.' I could have dispensed with your present, inasmuch as my former dre.=;s wnnld have RECETTION IN AMERICA. 147 fully answered all the purposes for which it was intended ; but my dear friend cannot dispense with the jrarment I am recommending him, for the man who has it not, will be turned out from the marriage supper and cast 'into outer darkness.' My friend went to great expense to procure me this substance ; and after all it is perishable, as he will per- ceive if I should live to see him again. But the garment of salvation is as new after fifty years' wear as on the first day : it is of imperishable materials ; and it will, notwithstanding, be given 'without money and without price.' Indeed, if God were to fix a price upon it, that very price, no matter how great, would lessen its value. It is said of one of the ancient painters, that although he bestowed immense labor on every one of his productions in the fine arts, he always gave them away ; and being asked tlie reason of it, he re- plied, ' They are above all price.' This is indeed the case with the gift of God. He gives away, lest his blessings should deteriorate in the eyes of the purchasers by the value annexed thereto ; but although he gives, ho gives free! ij, and is much more willing to give than we are to receive. He bestowed immense labor to perfect for us this finished work. 'The agony and bloody sweat, the cross and passion, the death and burial — the glorious resurrection and ascension, and the coming of the Holy Ghost.' The former of these, the price ; the latter, the purchase : and now he gives the Holy Spirit to them that ask him. " '0, Lamb of God, was ever pain. Was ever love like thine!' "But, my dear friend, why do I thus cany on the figure? Sufier me to speak freely, sincerely, lovingly, on this subject. Wliat is the cause? Why, amid all that kindness that you ever show, and delight to show to the meanest of the ser- vants of my Lord — why, why is it, that you have not so fallen in love with the ' Altogether Lovely,' as to give him full possession of your heart ? You give him your money ; 148 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. you give your tongue to speak upon his goodness ; your feet are employed in tracking the way to his sanctuary, and you delight to be seated among the flock of Christ. But then, Tjour heart. '0, my son, my son,' says God, 'give me thine heart.' Seek the kingdom of God Jlrst, rather, and" bring every other consideration into a state of inferiority. Let me ask you, my dear brother — for such I call you in anticipa- tion and from my very soul — is he not worthy of your heart ? The language of angels is, ' Thou alone art worthy.' He has purchased you at the price of blood, and he claims you as his own. Will you continue to resist the claim ? Has he not long been striving with you to yield yourself a willing sacrifice? Though he could force, yet he prefers submission: he would honor you by proposing himself to your choice. He is an honorable lover. He woos, he en- treats, he supplicates, he stoops, to ask your love. Can you keep him out any longer ? 0, no ; your heart says no. Then answer him this moment : " ' Come in. come in, thou heavenly guest, And never hence remove; But sup with me, and let the feast Be everlasting love.' "0 yes, when you have once tasted his love, you will want it to be everlasting. May the Lord God encourage and incline you in this pleashig surrender, and may he hear my prayers on your behalf " Do let me hear from you at a leisure moment, and be- lieve me to be, my dear friend, "Yours, sincerely, "JOHN SUMMERFIELD." The exalted opinion which the public entertained of Mr. Summerfield's eloquence at this time, was not only abun- dantly confirmed, but exceedingly heightened by a sermon which he preached on the 7th of May, in the Reformed Dutch church, Nassau-street, in behalf of the Now York RECEPTION IN AMERICA. 149 Iiistituliou for the lustructioii of the Deaf and Dumb. The text upon which the discourse was founded, was Luke 6:36: "Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful ;" and the following were the concluding sentences : although the very words of the preacher, those only who heard them in that great congregation can conceive of the fervor witli which they were uttered: "But I transfer these children now to you. Behold them ;* they now stand before you, as you must stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. Dare you on this occasion say, '• ' The mercy I to otlicrs show, y That mercy show to me?" Do you realize that day ? You must stand stripped of every earthly treasure, naked before God. While you plead for mercy, cast all earthly treasure from you now. These now plead with you, as you will plead with God. Hear them. I do not mock you. Silence like theirs is eloquence. The hand of God has smitten them; but the stroke which blasted, consecrated them. Heaven has cast them on you. If you withhold, 'tis sacrilege. Will a man rob God? Are you still passing by on the other side ? Still griping, with a miser's fist, the pelf of earth ? Father of mercies, palsy not that hand, wither not that eye which can gaze on these objects and not feel affected'. On me be the wrong : I have lailed to afiect them — these children have failed. Thou canst move them. descend, as with cloven-tongues of fire, and find thou an entrance into every heart. But I can no more." The sermon being concluded, the collection was taken up, which amounted to something over o?ie thoiesa?icl dollars, a gold necklace, and several ri7igs. This sermon, the only one ever published by Mr. Summerfield, was printed * The preacher here dropped his handkerchief on tlie platform, and i.he objects of the charity stood up in the presence of the congregatiun. The effect was electrical. 150 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. at the request of the directors, and two editions sold for the benefit of the institution. It may be added that on the 18th of April, 1822, a law of the legislature of the state of New York was passed, entitled, "An act to provide for the Indigent Deaf and Dumb within this State ;" thus transfer- ring the maintenance of these institutions for the destitute from the charity of individuals to the public resources, ru- ment. FAILUHE OF HIS HEALTH. 151 CHAPTER XII. ORDAINED DEACON— VIOLENT ILLNESS— DICTATES A TESTAMEN- TARY PAPER- RECOVERS SLOWLY— PUBLIC ANXIETY- LETTERS —VISITS NEW JERSEY"— CREATED MASTER OF ARTS— LETTERS. In the month of June, the Conference of that section of the American Methodist Society to which Mr. Summerfield belonged, was held in the city of New York. He attended the sittings daily, though evidently laboring at the same time under indisposition. Having fulfilled his probation, he was now, according to the usage of the church, ordained deacon. * * * A few days after this ordination, he proceeded with the venerable bishop M'Kendree to Philadelphia ; the fatigue which he endured on this journey — short of one hundred miles — was more than his weak frame could bear, and on his arrival he was taken with a violent hemorrhage of the lungs ; so severe was the attack, and so reducing the conse- quent treatment, that he was brought down to the verge of the grave. On the 11th of June, he was given up by the physicians, and it was thought that a few hours would ter- minate his life. At this crisis, he declared himself to be fully prepared for the change which seemed to be at hand, and said that he felt "inconceivably happy," requesting his brother, who was present, to have '-'Ills mind made up." He then desired that his writing-desk might be placed by his side on the bed, and although so feeble that he could hardly move his eye, he wrote the following directions with a facility truly astonishing : " June 11, 1822. I the subscriber being about, as far as human calculation can determine, to leave this world for a better, being unable to speak suflicicntly to convey my last wishes on certain malters dependent upon my death, do herlfty advise. 152 REV. JOHN SUMMElLl'IELl). " 1. Tliiit my body be deccully interred iii Philadelphia, where it now is, without pomp or parade. " 2. That it' it be the wisli of" tlie physicians, they arc at liberty to open it after my decease, to ascertain the nature of my complaint ; this may serve others ; and as 1 have Avished its strength and vigor to be devoted for the good of man, T am willing that the corpse be also so applied: not desiring either to live to myself, or die to myself "3. 1 have little efiects remaining: I entered not into the ministry of our Lord and hlaviour Jesus Christ irom peciuiiary considerations, and had only a pi-ovision of ibod and raiment. Owing to the benevolence of dearly beloved brother and sister Blackstock, and my kind friends, the sum allowed me ibr food has not been expended ; there will be Ibund, therefore, two hundred dollars in the Vvriting-desk in my room at iJr. Beekman's iu a red pocket-book ; this sum is iu two promissory notes of the Methodist Book-concern — the money being lodged there at interest. It is my desire that this be pi'eserved for my two sisters Amelia and Anne, as a farewell token of my love for them ; to be received by or for them at any after-period of their lives. "4. I earnestly beseech my good brother Waldo in Pine- street, by all the love he ever showed me, to give my por- trait to brotlier and sister Blackstock ; and 1 beg they will accept of it as a farewell gift. " 5. It is my charge that my pocket volumes of manu- script sermons, etc., be retained by Mr. Blackstock. This charge is in trust for either of my brothers Joseph or William, in case the Lord should call either of them into the work of the ministry ; they may then avail themselves of my labors. " G. With regard to my theological books and pamphlets, Mr. Blackstock may retain them for the same purpose as above ; all my other books I give to Mr. Blackstock, as also my theological ones, in case ol' failure of my hopes with regard to either of my brothers. A FAILUUK Vi- HIS HEALTH. 153 " 7. There is in the writing-desk in Dr. Beekman's, also, eleven dollars in notes and a ten dollar gold eagle : this sum is for the Young Men's Missionary Society, of which I am president, being ten dollars from Dr. Bcekman for his son, ten dollars from Mr. Bcthune, and one dollar from Mrs. Wallace, as a donation. "8. I owe to Mr. Brown the tailor eleven dollars — " The document was here abruptly broken ofl^ at the re- quest of his brother, on perceiving that the suflerer was completely exhausted in consequence of the ellbrt he had made to ANrite thus I'ar. The writing apparatus being removed, he inunediately fell into a sound sleep, from which he did not awake until after a lapse of sixteen hours. During this repose the natural energy of his shattered constitution had made a vigorous eflbrt, and when he awoke a change for the better had evidently taken place. He continued to improve daily ; and in a week was able to write home the Ibllowing letter : " Philadelphia, June 18, 1822. " My DEAR James — I suppose you will not expect more than a line or two, when you sec it is from mc, and when you know that I am writing while on my back in bed. I still continue to improve, and have had no return of the bleeding ; Ellen," Mrs. Blackstock, " says she is better, and will Mrite to-morrow. My father and she unite with me in love to you and William and my dear Amelia and Anne. The Lord bless you all. "J. SUMMERFIELD.-' Such was the intense solicitude which the report of Mr. Suminerfield's illness produced in Philadelphia and else- where, that notices resembling bulletins, announcing his con- valescence, were published in the newspapers. One of them observes, " There is no better proof of the lofty estimation in which this gentleman's character and talents are held, than the intense anxiety which has been manifested for his 7* 154 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. recov'^ery. We recollect no instance of the kind in which public sympathy has been so warmly engaged, or in which the danger of one individual has produced so lively a sensa- tion upon the general mind." * * =* The following, addressed to an esteemed friend who had Avritten him from her sick chamber, illustrates his power of administering consolation to the afflicted. To Mrs. Suokley. " ruiLADELPniA, July 30, 1822. " My dear Mrs. Suckley vi'ill have almost given up all expectation of hearing from jne again ; ' hope deferred maketh the heart sick,' but as this kind of sickness is not unto death, I now send yoti a recipe for its complete cure, and that is, ' E-ead this letter, thank the Father of mercies that all is so well, and close by a prayer for the writer.' " Your very welcome favor pained, as well as pleased ; it was written from a sick chamber : this I should' have known from the perfume it brought with it, even though you had been silent on the subject. what ' fruits of righteous- ness' do these afflictions yield. I have just finished a meal on peaches, but their odor is lost when put in competition with that fragrance. . Some of the choicest plants of God's right hand's planting never give forth their odor with half their sweets, till he presses them with his afflicting hand ; and hence the world has always been filled with the rich perfumes of his suflering saints. May you ever be counted ' M^orthy to sufier,' remembering that this also is the gift of God; for ' unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe, but also to sufler.' Keep in view the ' ETERNAL WEIGHT OF GLORY,' and then you will reckon 'that these liglit afflictions, which are but /or a moment, are not worthy to be compared therewith.' " With regard to myself, if indeed it is worth while to say any thing of one who appears to be laid out of sight, like useless scafiblding, I am in better health than I have FAILURE OF HIS HKALill. 155 been since I left you ; I trust I recover a little and a little from day to day, except when I suffer those drawbacks to which all persons in my poor state are subject, and which cannot be traced to any assignable cause. I do not recover fast, but I hope it may be the more sure : I neither run, nor walk, nor creep : I crawl; and like the poor snail, carry my tabernacle along so slowly, that I ' often groan, being bur- dened.' Were it not for this burden, how soon should I be with you ; perhaps you doubt this, and rather suppose that then •• '• My soul would soar away, And mingle with the blaze of day.' Still, however, I trust I should often be permitted to accom- pany the angels who are hovering around you, and perhaps privileged to be one of the ministering spirits to an heir of salvation. " Much, much have I desired to see you, but that seems further off than before. My physicians had a meeting yester- day morning, and strongly advised me to give up the idea of returning to New York for three or four weeks ; the reasons tliey assigned convinced me of the propriety of this measure, although from their medical character I could not easily impress you with them. " Ever your truly affectionate friend, '= JOHN SUMJIERFIELD." Mr. Summcrfield recovered so slowly, that in one of his letters he says concerning his health, " I begin to entertain serious apprehensions it will improve no more. I thiidf I have the prospect of a lingering decline, not unlike that of my dear mother. I wish I could add, that I had also tlic prospect of the same triumphant end. On this subject I am very low." At the recommendation of Dr. Physic, and in the hope of salutary eflects from the air and water of New Mills, he took a journey to Jersey. His health, however, improved " but slowly ;"' and in a letter from Burlington, 156 REX. JOHN SUMMliRFIELD. dated August, 1622, he speaks of his stale in these meas- ured terms : " My health is not worse tliau when 1 last wrote to you, but I think I may say it is somewhat improved." His allectionate and sensitive raiiid Avas at this time ex- posed to an exi)eriment of a very ))aiul'ul kind, by the tidings of the death of an eminent physician, Avhom he greatly loved, and whose house used to be Mr Sumrnertield's home, when in Baltimore. In a letter dated from Burlington, 19th of August, he says, "On Saturday I received the distressing news that my dear friend Dr. Baker of Baltimore is an inhabitant oi' another world. You know he wrote two let- ters to me during my illness, and was then in perfect healtli : at that time I was, as you saw me, hanging between time and eternity, insomvich that the letters were kept from me ; yet how soon is the scene changed : he is laid low, and I am spared. Gracious God, how mysterious are thy providences.^ I know not why 1 Avas spared, for truly I am an improfitable piece of lumber, a burden to my friends and to myself. that the design for wliich I have been spared may have its full accomphshrnent in me." This report turned out to be unfounded ; Dr. Baker had indeed been near death, but recovered. What had been the exercises and temper of Mr. Summerfield's spirit on this occasion, and how sincerely he rejoiced in the restoration of one of his best friends, will appear from the following tender letter. '■ Burlington, August 21, 1822. " My dear, doukly dear Doctor — "While I write to you, 1 scarcely believe myself awake ; it seems a pleasant dream. To me, you are as one risen from the dead. On Saturday last 1 heard that Dr. Baker was no more. I wept — I pray- ed — I painted the whole picture of his bereaved family before my mind ; and often have I put the question to myself since that time, what will become of the fatherless children ? 'Tis true, I had some cordial in the cup, for I anticipated that my dear friend departed in the full triumph of faith ; I FAILURE OF HIS HEALTH. 157 lancied the I'eelings of the moment Avheii tlie last thread was eut, and he " ' Clapt his glad wings and soared away, To mingle with the blaze of day ;' and under these views I had said, ' Their loss is his infinite gain.' But again, I had thought of the bereaved partner, and poor Mrs. D and E , and I wished I was in Baltimore, yet dared not trust myself to bear the scene. But my friend lives ; glory, glory be to God. I am revived ; my spirits have risen, all is well. 0, my dear doctor, I am partly beside myself and know not what to write ; but I shall recover myself, and iny Father which is in heaven must be the only witness of the feelings which now throb in my heart. " ' I'll praise him while he lends me breath.' "And now that I have received my dear friend again from the dead, now that Lazarus has risen, after being four days in the grave, shall the love of Martha or of Mary ex- ceed the gratitude which I should feel ? And will not my dear friend join me in tliis, that He whose word maketh whole, hath a right to all the revived powers we now pos- sess ? We are similarly circumstanced, and shall we not be similarly excited? 'While 1 live, I will praise the Lord. I will praise him as long as I have any being.' And will not dear Dr. Baker take up the same resolution ? Oh, help me to praise the Lord. I am lost, lost, lost in goodness ; I am out' of depth. It is past finding out. "Will not my dear friend join me in this entire consecra- tion of my renewed existence ? Come now, say the words — I feel them ; and may our common Loi'd accept the sacri- fice we now make : " ' If so poor a worm as I May to thy great glory live, All my actions sanctify, All my words and thoughts receive ; 158 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. Claim me for thy service; claim All I have, and all I am. Now my God, thine own I am ; Now I give thee back thine own : Freedom, friends, and health and fame, Consecrate to thee alone : Thine I live; thrice happy I — Happier still, if thine to die.' " Now arc we sanctified — set apart to God. Oh for a greater measure of the influence of the sanctifying blood. It is yours ; it is all yours, and it is all mi7ie. May we ever wash and be kept clean till the day of eternal redemp- tion. " My health is recovering, but at present it is a pain to me to write, having at this moment a tartar plaster on my breast to create an artificial sore. This must excuse the scrawl I send you, which I query if you will be able to read. Remember me very affectionately to Mrs. Baker; I have for some days offered up this petition for her : '0 my Lord, be thou the husband of this widow ; marry her to thyself The former clause may now want a little alteration, but I trust she would make none in the latter. Oh that she may ever choose the Lord as her spiritual head, maintain her garments pure, that she may be worthy of a seat at the marriage supper of the Lamb. I trust that Mrs. D has had frequent opportunities of proving, during your late illness, the faithfulness of that promise, 'As thy day is, so shall thy strength be.' Tell her I often connect her with myself in these words, which raise my heart on many occa- sions : " ' Our sufferings here will soon be past, And you and I ascend at last Triumphant with our Head.' " Present my kind regard to E , and my love to all the little ones. Oh that the Lover of little children may gather all your little ones as a hen gathers her chickens FAILURE OF HIS HEALTH. 159 uuder her wings. Remember me to Mr. \Y , and to any who inquire about me. Farewell, farewell ; my pain tells me I must conclude. To God I commend you all. "J. SUMMEILFIELD.-' # * * His visit to New Jersey brought him into con- tact with several gentlemen connected with Pi'inceton Col- lege ; and the Senatus Academicus of this institution maiai- fested their sense of the talents and worth of Mr. Summer- field by creating him a Master of Arts. * * * The following letter to an intimate friend, who had re- cently found Christ to be precious, breathes the full heart of Summerfield. To Mr. William M. WiUelt. '■ rniLADELPiiiA, Sept. 22, 1822. " My DEAE.EST William — Think not for one moment, I beseech you, that in all my long silence since we parted, there was ever any other feeling in my heart towards you than unbounded anxiety for your welfare. I thank God that I have often good remembrance of you in my prayers by night and by day ; and up to this moment, my heart's desire and prayer for you is, that you may stand complete in all the will of God. Circumstances, however, over which I had no control, and a series of complex afflictions rolling over me like so many billows, have conspired to retard my writing to you ; and even now I venture on it in a situation as distressing as ever, having a blister across my breast at this very moment. Still, and although forbidden to wi'ite, I have ventured to assure you in this manner, even were it but in half a dozen lines, that I love and esteem you, and hold myself sacredly bound to watch over your spiritual interest for good. " And is it so, my dear AYilliam, that your mouth has been opened on the behalf of Him whose heart was opened by the soldier's spear for you ? What shall I say ? I am lost in wonder, love, and praise. May the Lord give you 160 REV. JUllN SUMMEilFlKLD. the tongue of the learned, that you may speak a word in season in his great name. And all this change within a year — a little year. My own heart cries out, What shall / render unto the Lord ibr all his benefits towards you ? " 'I '11 praise him while he lends me breath; And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers : My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life and thought and being last, Or immortality endures.' '■' When I last wrote to Bishop M'Kendrec, I communi- cated to him the pleasing intelligence of what the Lord had done for you, and he rejoices with me for the consolation. "But Oh, my dear William, if my anxieties were ever directed to you, they are increased now a hundred-fold. ' I long to be with you now, and change my voice.' ' I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy.' You have begun well ; but Oh, my William, there is an end, as well as a beginning. Oh that I could but sec the end of your course. I am ambitious for you be^'oud measure, that you may walk worthy of Him who has called you unto hi.s kingdom and glory. Is your eye upon the goal ? Do you frequently an- ticipate that welcome sound, ' Well done, well done, good and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord ?' Do you frequently realize the end of your race in the words of him who was faithful unto death : ' I have fought the good fight, I have fmished my course, I have kept the faith?' If this would not be the issue, I declare to you, my dear William, with all my aflectiou for you, I would prefer to follow you to your grave now, in the bloom of life, while you bear the mark of Him, ' whose you now are, and whom you now serve.' Pardon me for thus expressing my anxiety ; I am not afraid of you, if you keep your eye upon the Captain of our salvation. Never take it off for a moment to look upon the multitude who may hail you with their plaudits, FAILURE OF HIS HEALTH. 161 but with steady step urge on your course, ' lookinjr unto Jesus ' If the bubble of human applause follow you, thank God for it. It may make your word the more successful ; but never do you follow the bubble ; you will lose your time, and perhaps your soul too. Live for eternity ; and in reference to this only, follow after glory, and honor, and im- mortality and eternal life. "But, my dear William, don't suppose that your only danger lies here ; you will not always find the path strewed witli flowers. Branches of palm-trees will not always be cast in your Avay, nor the cries of the multitude, 'Hosanna in the highest,' accompany you to the temple of the Lord. Think it not strange if these same voices should sometimes exclaim, 'Crucify him, crucify him.' Remember, the ser- vant is not greater than his Lord ; and if these things have been done to him, be not surprised if you are called to walk in his footsteps ; yea, count it all joy, and rejoice in that you are counted worthy to sufler shame for the sake of him who loveth you. You may be evil spoken of; many mouths will now be opened, and your motives and actions may be mis- construed ; some, perhaps, whom you now call 'brethren,' may deal deceitfully with you ; clouds and darkness may thicken about your path ; and Satan, who delights to fish in troubled waters, may tempt you to draw back, and sug- gest that you have deceived yourself; but Oh, \Yilliani, let none of these things move you. Endure hardness as a good soldier. Sufler no man to despise your youth ; allow no opportunity for scandalizing you by word or deed ; be kind, humble, loving to all ; be gentle even to the froward, and put on the spirit of meekness. In every satanic temptation Jly to the throne of grace ; never reason one moment with the enemy ; appeal to God in your closet for the sincerity of your intentions ; keep clean hands and a pure heart, and God will put Satan under your feet, and give you the tinal victory. Oh, William, 'keep that which is committed to 162 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. thy trust.' Fare thee well. Write to me speedily, and be assured of the prayers and afiection of your fellow-servant in the kingdom and patience of Jesus. '^J. SUMMERFIELD." In the month of October, Mr. Summerfield once more embraced his family and friends in New York. From that city he wrote the following letter to his youngest sister, then on a visit at R . The spirit of fraternal affection which breathes through every line, must render any apology for its introduction imneccssary. " New York, October SI, 1822. " My DEAR Anne — If you are as anxious to receive a letter from us as we are to see you again, you must be very impatient indeed. I have undertaken to write to you my- self, and I really am vain enough to think you would rather receive a letter from me than any of the family besides. " I had anticipated for a long time the pleasure of pay- ing a visit to H , but one thing after another occurred to prevent me, so that I now despair of accomphshing my wishes in this respect. However, as I do not expect to sail for the West Indies before the middle of next month, I hope to see you here, as I suppose you will be frozen out of H before that time. " I trust that my dear Anne conducts herself in all re- spects worthy of her brother, and increases daily in favor with God and man. You know I often talk of you as a child of my own rearing ; therefore, never bring my glory to shame. Fear God and keep his commandments ; do not neglect any seasons of private prayer which present them- selves, but call upon the Lord every day while you have any being. '"A flower, when ofiered in the bud, Is no mean sacrifice.' " I have full confidence in my dear Anne, that she will do even more than I say. Never let a day pass without FAILURE OF HIS HEALTH. 163 reading a porliou of God's word ; so you shall be made wise unto salvation, and dwell with me and your elder brother the Lord Jesus, for ever and ever. "All that I have said to y^ou applies to my dear Catha- rine also. Give her my best love, and tell her she must be in this respect of one heart and one mind with you, tha:t so your intimacy may be continued in heaven, after each of you have bid adieu to every earthly scene. Oh, my dear Anne, think often on these things ; converse frequently with death and the grave ; and pray to Him who tasted death for you, to " ' Teach you to live, that you may dread The grave as little as your bed.' " I have had a peep into the grave lately, and assure you it is not so dark as fallen nature views it with the eye of sense. "Remember me ailectionately to Mrs. S , M , and S ; also to Mr., Mrs., and Miss G , and thank them very cordially for their kind wishes that I should come to li . I fear they would have spoiled me Avith extrav- agant kindness, if indeed that is not already done. " Farewell, my dear Anne ; bt; good, and you will be happy. " Your loving and afleclionate '^ JOHN.-' The two lollowing cliaracteristic letters were addres.sed to a respected friend and i)hysic-ian in Baltimore, whose kindness to Mr. Suuunerheld in his recent illness in tliat city, deeply aliected his heart. To Doctor Thomas Sargent. '• New Yoek, Oct. 25, 1922. " My dear Doctor — It seems an age since I left you, •ind indeed I can hardly convince myself that it is no more than two little \\'eeks. 1 have been favored lor so long a lime with a daily visit Irom you, after I had been previously 164 REV. JOHN SUMMERl'JELD. conversant with yon face to face almost all the day long while in tlie bosom of your family, that I sensibly feel my loss. Indeed, it is no great wonder if my spirits flag in the course of the forenoon, when I have no prospect, as hereto- fore, of a visit from one whose presence generally revived me like a cordial, when in the most melancholy mood. How- ever, I do feel a momentary relief when conversing with you by a letter ; the distance between us appears to be overcome, and I can almost faircy myself in my lovely chamber at the house of my estimable friends in Eighth-street. My dream, however, will be as short as it is illusory ; and when I wake up from my reverie and seal my sheet, I shall again find myself alone. " You will readily conclude, my dear doctor, that the megrims have taken hold of me ; but not so. The time of separation from my friends is drawing near, and the nearer it approaches the greater coward do I discover myself to be. At a distance of time from the afflicting moment, 1 was all buckram and swagger about my West Indies adventures. I dipped the liveliest pencil of my imagination in the colors of the rainbow, and painted many an animating picture ; but now the rainbow is vanished, and blackness and gloom have spread over every line 1 drew. My feelings when I first approached the shores of these favored states were not to be described. I rejoiced in hope. But then I had no friend- ships formed, no other loves had mingled with my own, all was untried ; but now, how changed the scene. So soon to be driven from the fond embrace of those who ' received me as an angel of God, yea, as Christ Jesus,' from those who would have plucked out their own eyes and given them to me. Oh, doctor, it is too much. Forgive me if I pause a while. " But come, we shall meet again. We will not sorrow as those who have no hope. All will be well. To live is Christ, to die is gain ; living or dying we are the Lord's. FAILURE OF HIS HEALTH. 1G5 Look up, there rcmainctli a rest — Oh, the rest, the re$t.' There the inhabitants no more say, ' I am sick.' God bless you, my dear, dear doctor ; your love to me was wonderful. May my Lord do that for you which I am too poor to do, reward you a hundred, a thousand fold. God bless you and all your house. " I know not where this strain would lead me. It makes me play the woman ; but Jesus wept at parting with his friend, even in the full prospect of an immediate reunion. "With me that is uncertain ; but we will hope : 'we are saved by hope.' And now, my dear doctor, pray for me, that I may be restored to you by the will of G od, and that we may yet have joy together, according to the days wherein we have had sorrow. Farewell. " Your aflectionate friend, '•JOHN SUMMERFIELD." To the same. « New York, 6th Dec, 1822. " My dear Doctor — It is probable I may take my pas- sage in a vessel to sail in about ten days for Leghorn in Italy ; this would bring me immediately into a warm lati- tude. Instead of going to Havre in the north of France, and thence proceeding southward, with the prospect of measuring the same ground back again in the approaching spring, I should now go directly south, and advance northward through France as the cuckoo shall invite, and the bud of vegetation expand from one degree of latitude to another. We should remain four or five days at Gibraltar, aiul expect to arrive in Italy about 1st February. " Although I cannot say concerning myself what the Almiirhty said to Job concerning the war-horse, 'he swal- loweth the groiuid' in his intcnsciiess for the goal of desti- nation, and makes no account of all the space between, yet I have often rambled on the classic soil, and tramped the pathway to the Three Taverns, where Paul discovered that IGG REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. Jesns Christ had been in Kome before him, thanked God, and took courage. " But you will think me too sentimental if I say more ; suffice it that my mind, amidst all the pleasurable scenes which fancy paints before it, fixes upon none with half the intensity that it rests upon the picture of its return ; it is only this that reconciles it to a temporary remove : the scenes of France and Italy exist but in my imagination, but otlicr scenes have left an indent upon my lieart. " Please make my respects to Mr. and Mrs. C . I received the letter Mr. C was kind enough to forward me by J , but without seeing him ; I vmderstand he passed on the same day. If matters of business were the cause of his speedy departure I could scarcely excuse him, as none but a royal courier need be so expeditious : ' the King's business is urgent ;' but being able to account for it on the ' principles of attraction,' and those being a part of the laAv of nature, I felt quite reconciled. " What has become of Thomas ? Does he keep his resi- dence continually on mount Parnassus among the demi-gods of Greek and Roman origin ? If you ever see him, if he occasionally visits the ' vale below,' tell him that I should be glad if he could obtain a dispensation from Messrs. Homer and A''irgil for a little time to Avrite a line or two at least. My best respects to Mrs. Sargent, etc., etc, " Believe me ever " Your afi'ecticnate friend. "J. SUMMERFIELD."' To Doctor, late Bishop, Emory. " New York, Dec. 19, 1822. "My dear Brother. Emory — Your truly affectionate letter came to hand and was indeed a treasury of comfort and consolation, under the severe stroke which had been applied in the tcnderest part in which the providence of God could have afflicted me. But my dear, my only parent still FAILURE OF HIS HEALTH. 167 lives. He lives to ask for blessings on his child. I have been Benoni in time past, but now he calls me Benjamin. Oh, that I may not only be the son of his right hand, but held as a star in the right hand of Him ivho illumi^iates the churches. My dear father is fast recovering ; his limbs have resumed their vigor, and his speech is gradually, though slowly improving. My mind is now at rest : if he live, I know he Avill live unto the Lord ; and if he die, I have full assurance he will die unto him ; life or death is gain. I sincerely sympathize with you in your loss,* her gain : and yet why mourn we ? ' How happy are the faithful dead.' If we beheve that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. Com- fort we one another with these words, not only in the loss of relatives and friends, but in prospect of our approaching change ; for though 'An angel's hand can't snatch us from the grave, Legions of angels can't confine us there.' Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." To Mr. Thomas B. Sargent. " New York, Dec. 22, 1822. " My dear Thojias — This letter will announce to you my departure to a foreign and far-distant shore. To-mor- row, and I am gone. This cannot, I am sure, be matter of grief to my friend. Your eye will pierce the cloud which envelopes this dispensation of Providence, and you will see all things working together for good. Now that I am at last gone, you will begin to anticipate my return. I regret that it is not in my power to antedate the months, and thus accelerate even the rapid flight of time : but if we continue to pray for one another, and that without ceasing, many a long and otherwise tedious term will be overcome ; for the * Alluding to fhp dfath of Mr. Emory's mother. 1G8 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. words of the poet will apply to the fleet n ess as well as siveet- ness of the moments thus employed. Taking the liberty, therefore, to alter the first word of the stanza, let us sing, ' Swift the moments, rich in blessing, Which before the cross we spend.' Meet me there, my dear friend, day by day ; let us blend our prayers together, and may our common Lord fill us with like precious faith, like glorious hope, like perfect love. " When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith which dwelt first in thy father and mother, and I am persuaded in thee also, I cease not to give thanks for thee in my jjrayers night and day ; wherefore also I put thee in remembrance, that thou stir up the gift of God that is in thee. Preach the word Be instant in season, out of season. Do the work of an evangelist ; make full proof of thy ministry. Reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all long-sufiering and doc- trine. Let no man despise thy youth, but be thou an en- saraple to the believers, in word, in convci'sation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity. Oh, my dear Thomas, keep that which is committed to thee, giving thanks unto God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in that he count- ed thee faithful, putting thee into the ministry, according to the glorious gospel of the blessed God which is commit- ted to thy trust. Grace be with thee. Amen and amen. " Having so little time, and so much yet to do, I bid you a sweet farewell. " Ever sincerely and aflcctionately yours, "J. SUMMERFJELD." HIS VOYAGE TO FRANCE. 1G9 CHAPTER XIII. SAILS FOR FRANCE-IXTERESTIXG LETTER.S FROM MARSEILLE.'^. The slate of Mr. Suuimerfielcrs health requiring that ho should try the eflects of a change of cliruate, it was settled tliat he should for a while leave the United States, and visit the West India islands. This projected trip, however, for which arrangements had been made, was ultimately aban- doned in favor of a voyage to Europe, one great object of which is clearly exhibited in the following extract from a letter written three days before he sailed, to his " ever val- ued friend" Doctor Baker. " While you are reading this, I am sailing on the deep ; lift up your heart and say, ' the Lord be with thy spirit.' The vessel is the fine new ship Six Brothers ; her destina- tion is Marseilles, wliere Ave hope to arrive in forty-five days. Our captain is every thing I could wish, and Me have one passenger, wlio Avill be one heart and soul with me. I have been appointed a delegate from the American Bible Society to the Protestant Bible Society of France, whose auuiversaiy 1 shall have to attend, in April next. With my credentials I carry letters of the most flattering kind to the Marquis de Jarcourt, peer of France, Mr. Gallatin, Marquis de la Fay- ette, American consuls, etc., and a fry of letters of intro • duction to ministers, merchauts, and private gentlemen ; my en/nd, therefore, in a strange country, will be greatly re- lieved ; but the best of all is, ' God is with me.' Jlis favor is better than /i/e itself. Earthly pageantry fades away when brought into competition with him. Remember me at a throne of grace, and expect to meet me there. It may seem a little strange, tliat having sent two prints of my ])ortrait to your city, one to Mr. Soule and one to Mr. Har- den, 1 have not sent a third to my good friend in Light- 170 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. street : the reason is, I have reserved the 'better thhig' for you ; should I he spared, and ever remove to Baltimore, I shall personally jiresent you with the original painting, from which the print has been taken. And now, my dear doctor, I commend you and yours to Him who is able to keep you. My time is short ; you shall hear from me when abroad. " Fai'ewell ; ever yours, ".T. SUMMERFIELD.-' On the 25th of December, 1822, he took his departure from New York in the ship Six Brothers, captain Mason, bound to Marseilles. It is due to captain Williams, one of the owners of the vessel, to state that he generously gave Mr. Summerfield a free pasi5age to the port of their destina- tion ; this kindness, added to the liberality of his friends, enabled the beloved invalid to remain abroad a longer time and with greater comfort than otherwise he might have done. A selection from a highly interesting series of letters may appropriately be introduced in this place, exhibiting as they do in the most striking manner the movements, engagements, and feelings of the writer. To Mr. Blackstock. " Makseilles, January 28, 1823. "My dear James — I know not whether you have heard of our safe arrival before this letter reaches you, but at all events / do know that you will be very anxious to hear ; and I anticipate the pleasure which these lines will produce while you read them, one after the other, father, brothers, and sisterg — and I know not who besides. Yesterday we dropped our anchor iu the port of Marseilles, safe and sound. Bless the Lord of winds and seas. praise the Lord with me, and let us exalt his holy name together. " Our passage has excited much wonder here, for truly it was an uncommon one. On the third Sunday after our departure we sailed past the Azores, the first European land : and so reirular were we in all our movements, ihat HIS VOYAGE TO FRANCE. 171 •we reckoned to a day our time, and it Avas done unto us ' even as we would.' " We appointed in our arrangements tliat on the follow- ing Sabbath we should pass the straits of Gibraltar, and it was even so ; on the evening of that day we were clear en- tered the Mediterranean. Wc again continued our confi- dence in the goodness of Him who ' holds the winds in his fist,' and reckoned our arrival at Marseilles on the following Sabbath ; it was even so, that on the night of that day we were riding in the bay, and the next day received a piliJt on board, and so made the harbor on the thirty-secoud day — at least a fortnight before our most sanguine expectations. "As this is merely a letter of advice of our arrival, I for- bear to enlarge on any other subject. By the first vessel that leaves this place for the United States, I intend sending a letter to each of you, making half a dozen, and also to some other of my New York friends. This letter I send by the way of Liverpool, and this must be a sufficient apology for not writing to any other by this conveyance." To Mr. Francis Hall. " Marseilles, Gth February, 1823. " My very dear Friend — Before this shall reach you, you will have been apprized through Mr. Blackstock of the good speed we made upon our voyage. I think I never ex-. perienced more settled peace of mind than during that time, and it was as iwrmanent as it was perfect ; like that steady sunshine of which our ^A'csley sings, when " 'Not a cloud doth arise to darken the skies, Or hide for a moment my Lord from my eyes.' 1 was a wonder unto myself; the word of the Lord seemed sealed upon my heart, ' Thou wilt keep him in fcrfect peace whose mind is stayed upon thee, because he trusteth in thy word.' I had not a moment's uneasiness concerning the happy termination of our voyage ; I felt that Jesus was with me in my little state-room, ' in the hinder part of the ship,' 172 ILEV. JullxN SITMiML: IM'I !•; LD. and partially coufiuetl to it as I was by reason of the wet weather, 1 found by experience that "' Prisons can palaces prove, If Josus Vmi; deigns to be there.' "Whenever I threw the reins upon the neck of rny imagination, which I frequently did by way of relaxation from severer studies, I found my thoughts involuntarily to lead me back to New York, instead of presenting me w ith any airy speculations of the pleasure I should meet with in niy iiative land, while tramping w]) and down again the scenes of my boyish, but my happy days ; truly, if the wind had veered round whenever my iancy took this turn, and our vessel had sped its course in the same direction, you would never have heard from me at ' Marseilles.' 1 found, that though America was but lately to me a land of stran- gers, my heart, my aiiections — all said it was now my ' home;' and thus, in a subordinate sense, where my treasure was, there was my heart also. And indeed, when I consid- ered the friends that the strangers' God had raised me up, and then dwelt upon the ten thousand acts of kindness which those friends have showed me for his sake, I could only won- der, love, and praise. "Among this crowd, my dear brother Hall holds no sec- ond place, and it is only in acknowledgment of a vast debt of gratitude, which I can but co)/fess, but never pa//, that I write to him by the first conveyance this country has pre- sented me Avith, in a vessel bound to Boston. I had hoped for an interview on Christmas morning, but our ship hauled away too early to permit it. I had not taken my leave in Walker-street the evening previous — your kindness was at that time too oppressive to admit of it ; but perhaps it was well, for 1 know not how long the ' farewell ' might have hung upon my tongue and lingered on my lips ; but I thought of you that morning though I saw you not, and sent more than one petition to the throne of grace that a ' prophet's HIS VOYAGE TO FRANCE. 173 reward' might be yours, multiplied as much heyond the recompense promised to a cup of cold water as your substan- tial gift exceeded that in value. May the hearer of prayer realize to you my heart's desire, and fill you with all the ful- ness of his holy love." To his Father. " M.iRSEiLLEs, 7th February, 1823. " My dear Father — My health is somewhat better than M'hen I left you'; indeed, considering the dampness of a sea atmosphere, rendered still more so by the rain which feli every day more or less until we entered the straits of Gibral- tar, it is remarkably so. I- am now reaping the advantage of the voyage, more than I was able to do at sea : my appe- tite is uncommonly good, but I only gratify it in the plainest food. The soups of Franco arc just what answer me : in most of them no animal food whatever enters into their com- position ; vermicelli and other Italian pastes, twisted in the shape of little worms, or rounded like a pea or bean, form the substantial part ; the liquid appears to be chiefly SAv^eet oil, which is here very fine, and for which I have acquired a high relish. My cough is much softer than it was, and I expecto- rate with great freedom ; this I attribute in some measure to the drying up of the issue on my breast. The other, on my arm, is also healing : so that I will try the efiects of this measure. I found they had always the effect of making the cough hard and spasmodical, carrying ofi' the mucus which was secreted within, Avithout removing the radical disease. " I take little or no medicine, endeavoring to produce a cliatige by diet and exercise. With regard to the latter, I live methodically, and arrange to walk at least eight miles every day, dividing it into four different times to render it more agreeable. In short, I have solemnly joined hands with God to preserve my life and restore my poor and feeble constitution; I have devoted myself to him afresh, 'and promised in a sacred hour lor God to live and die.' I ran 174 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIRLD. indeed say, for I really /eeZ it to be true, this world has no attractions for me ; 'There's nothing here deserves my joys, There's nothing like my God.' . I have therefore no desire to liA^e but for him; and I can- not, my dear father, disguise the feelings of my heart, for I confess to you I am rather unwilling to go away so soon after entering the lists against 'the god of this world,' although I have a sweet Ibretaste that when I shall be ab- sent from the body, I shall be present with the Lord ; yet I feel as if I could endure this privation from his presence for some time longer, that I may come down like a shock of corn full ripe in its season, 'filled with the fruits of right- eousness, which are by Christ Jesus, unto the glory and praise of God the Father.' When I reflect on the word in which I trust, that ' they who turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars,' I feel fired with a holy ambition, which consumes me with its fervor. I hunger and thirst after this, and I feel a cleaving to earth that I may finish the work which I believe is given me to do. If I could only live to sec many sons brought home to glory, Avhom 1 might present to tli/3 Captain of our salvation, I could then say, ' Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.' You know, ray dear father, and I know, and God kmnvs also — and I blush even now while I write it — that much of my life has run to waste. In the former part of it I lived to myself, and not to Him who loved me and gave huiiself for me. I will not, I cannot forgive myself; no, never. But I M'ant to make some better return to my dying, risen Sav- iour. I wish to bear the burden and heat and toil of a long, laborious, well-spent day. I wish to serve my generation by the will of God, and then to fall asleep. 0, that God would grant rac my heart's desire and prayer. But if not, if my spared life would not conduce to his glory, I could gladly ins VOYAGE TO FRANCE. 175 lay mc down and die. Lord God, thou seest the end from the beginning ; do with me as seemeth good in thy sight." To his second Sister. "Marseilles, February 10, 1823. " My DEAii Amelia — In writing a letter to you, in com- mon with the other members of the family, I not only do myself a real pleasure, but I discharge in some measure, at least by acknowledgment, a debt of gratitude I owe you, and which has been long accumulating by your thou- sand nameless attentions to my thousand nameless wants and anxieties. The remembrance of them, is much more lively at this distance of time and place, than when I re- ceived them nearer — resembling some of those finer scenes of nature which we only accurately estimate when viewed in perspective and at a distance. Nor are there wanting dark spots in abundance on the scene, to serve as shadows in setting ofl^ the lustre of the foreground ; I mean, iji the indiflerence with which I too frequently received many of those attentions, not considering that they derived their value from the motive which actuated them, rather than from their intrinsic worth. However, ' forgetting that which is behind, and reaching forth to those things which are be- fiire,' I trust yet to have years of opportunity to assure you of my sincere esteem and afi'ection ; during which time, and till death shall make the separation final as to this world, I desire and command you ahvays to regard me not merely as a brother, but as z. friend. ' A friend ' sometimes ' sticketh closer than a brother ;' at least there is such a Friend, and I have made him mine. I would fain recommend him to vou. 'If you seek him, he will be found of you ;' and with special reference to your time of life he says, 'I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me." "After writing the preceding page, and reading it over, I find I have been almost involuntarily led to a subject which lies near my heart with respect to you and Anne. I 176 REV. JOHN, SIJMMERFIKLD. have long felt it a duly I owed to you to diseourse seriously ujiou it ; but somehow or other, there is such a backward- ness to say that to one's relations which can be easily dis- coursed upon with mere acquaintances, that I have put it off again and again, irequently to my great condemnation. At your age, my dear Amelia, you must be fully sensible that lliU is the time to form your character in the world. I say in the Avoild, for it is not enough that your family arc acquainted with your regard lor religious men and things; there must be a profession made of tliis your attachment, and a union formed with some people who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. "Perhaps you would wish my advice on this subject, as to what church you ought to make choice of If left to me, I would unhesitatingly say, 'follow ray example herein,' i()r although I see many things among the Methodists which 1 could wish to be otherwise, yet I sincerely believe, take them as a body, they are the excellent of the earth, and have the life of God among them. "Do, my dear Amelia, consider this matter with serious- ness and prayer to God for wisdom to direct you, and let me hear from you in answer to this, with your mind in full. Whatever objections you might ilnd to talk to me about these things, ycu can have none to write to me about them. I wish you also to lay the matter before Anne ; she is old enough to serve the Lord, and I do trust tliat so far from her being^a hindcraiicc, she will be a help to you. "May the Lord enable you to lay it to heart. May he bless you, and keep you in his favor, fear, and love, all the days of your life, and may I meet you and embrace you among those who will stand with the Lamb upon mount Zion, after the heavens and the earth are fled away. " Farewell, my dear love, from the warm heart of your aflectionate friend a07 Notwithstanding, hoAvever, that Mr. Summerfield was on this occasion " flattered, even beyond suflerance" — to use his own phrase — and met with the most aflectionate treat- ment from many Christian friends, he was not at all in love with the French capital. Besides, in his opinion Paris was not the place for an invalid; indeed, he doubted " w^hether a soiaul man could find any thing like ho}7ie in it." In a letter to his father, he says, " My health is much as when I last wrote you ; my cough, though somewhat better, yet remains ; indeed, soon after I arrived at Marseilles, the weather took an unfavorable turn, and it has been exces- sively cold. I have often said, '0 that I had the wings of a dove,' then would I fly away to New York, and never think of seeking a fine climate in France again. I do not think that the weather is worse with you than it is at this very time, and. Paris is the dampest place I have been in for a long time : this, with the keenness of the air, is killing ; however, I will not terrify you by saying any more about it." Political afiairs, too, wore a gloomy aspect in France ; "and every body," says he, "appears to be seeking refuge in their native land, especially if tliey have been so favored as to call that land England or America." Happily for Summerfield, he had ties of kindred in both countries ; hav- ing therefore received official documents for the president of the American Bible Society, he hastened to revisit once more the land of his nativity. Before he- left that gay capital, however, he gave ex- pression to the spiritual emotions of his heart in the follow- ing letter to one whom he delighted to regard as his "son in the gospel." To Rev. Thomas B. Sargent. " Paris, April 17,^ 18-23. " My dear Thojias — Your letter arrived before I left Marseilles, and was as refreshing as a water spring in a dry and thirsty land. I intended to have opened the way by 208 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. first writing to you, and had already appointed to do so from this city ; but you have tlie preeminence. I do sincerely thank you for this renewed token of your love, and in return salute you with all the warmth of Christian affection of which my poor heart is susceptible. " I was glad to find that you had anticipated my wishes in furnishing me with so many and so interesting particulars respecting yourself; never forget, my dear Thomas, that I expect you always to be the liero in all your correspondence, as much as JEneas is in Virgil ; every other person, matter, or thing, may come in by way of episode, but I cannot per- mit that I should lose sight of yon by any long digressions. I have rejoiced, yea, and irill rejoice, that your providential path shines brighter, the more you follow and observe His hand, " ' Who points the star.s then" course, Whom sun and moon obey.' " I follow you through every scene, and sympathize with your every feeling. The kindness of brother B is not more than I expected from what had passed between him and me respecting you ; but, my dear Thomas, you know the friendship of Him who sticketh even closer than a brother. He invites you to all the sweets of this holy rela- tion, 'The friend of God.' 'Tis the tcnderest, 'tis the most exalted, to which mortal can be raised. It surpasses the privilege of a son, though that entails the inheritance, for ' if sons, then heirs ;' it is the manhood of a child of God. It is the privilege of admission into the secret chambers of the King Invisible. 0, my Thomas, it is — and yet I cannot utter it ; but Ifed it. Examine the principles of the friend- ship which subsists in kindred souls — say David and Jona- than — refine it of its earthUness, and cast away the dregs of selfishness ; don't be afraid that it will volatilize into an ether too pure to realize, a iM-ecious essence will remain ; now make ' the high and holy One ' one party, and see an INCIDENTS AT TARIS. 209 eartli-boni worm the other. \Yhat ardor of mutual love : what openness, what ingenuousness, what frankness, what contldunce, on the part of the creature ; what complacency, what stability, on the part of the Creator I While the one exclaims in the midst of human weakness, ' Lord, all 1 am is known to thee ;' the other calms the rising fear with the pweet response, Yet all 1 am is thine. "But I arrest myself; I am getting into depths which I cannot fathom, and yet into which I delight to plunge. 0, the fulness — the bottomless abyss — the depth. Does my Thomas often here '"Bathe his weary soul?' Does he " ' Thirst and faint and die to prove The greatness of redeerauig love ?' ' He shall be tilled;' ' the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.' " I regret to read in your letter the ill state of health of my dear friends in Eighth-street ; still in the furnace, and still unconsumed ? surely the Son of man is with them ; their heavenly Father would now teach them deep things. Though the chapter of atilictions contains many things hard to be understood, yet this should not discourage or make us faint therein ; it is one of the finishing lessons, for even ' Christ was made perfect through sufferings.' I confess we are naturally fond of turning over, like a schoolboy, and beginning a new jMge ; but 'the old is better :' with regard to myself, 1 often fear that I have tliiimbcd it so much, as to render illegible some of the lines, and that I am kept at the old place till I spell them out. May the Lord help me by his Spirit to commit to heart these deep things of God. And may my dear Mr. and Mrs. C out of weakness be made strong, and know with me that '• ' Afflictions from His sovereign hand. Are blessings in disguise.' " My health will be inquired after among your friends : 210 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. well, I find myself gaining strength every day ; I find the rouge of nature returning to my livid cheeks, and think if I were weighed I should be many pounds heavier ; but — and these ' bats ' mar every thing — my cough continues. Yet that is somewhat improved ; at times I think that it is the door through which my spirit will ere long take its flight : it is an ope?i door, and unless Providence should close it, I cannot hope for long life. I am in his hands ; he will do all things well. " Remember me to your father most affectionately, as also to your good mother — yours and mine. that my dear Thomas may never need the attentions of a stranger as I did in Race-street, when his own mother is no more. And yet, should such need require it, may he find some stranger's hand to bear him up and cheat him of a mother's loss, as I (lid at that awful hour. Remember me to your brothers and sisters, also to any other friends that may inquire. " Ever sincerely and aficctionately yours, "J. SUMMERFIELD." HIS VISIT TO ENCILAND. 211 CHAPTER XV. ARRIVES IN ENGLAND— FAIKFI?:LD— PREACHES AT LIVERPOOL— LETTERS— ATTENDS THE CONFERENCE AT SHEFFIELD— VISITS IMANY OTHER PLACES— HIS HEALTH BUT LITTLE IMPROVED— PORTRAIT— LETTERS. Mr. Summerfield on his arrival in England sought the Moravian settlement at Fairfield, near Manchester, at which place as already stated he had spent five happy years at school, and where one of his uncles continued to reside. Here he found one of his cousins, a young man twenty-one years of age, lying in the last stage of a consumption. Del- icate as was his own health, he devoted himself assiduously to administer such friendly assistance and spiritual consola- tion to his dying relative, as the nature of the case required. For a full fortnight he tenderly watched the death-bed of his beloved cousin ; nor did he leave him till death had closed his eyes. It was the only instance during his ministry, in which he had been called upon to see a person die ; and his feelings, as may be supposed, were exercised a good deal on the occasion. In the month of November, 1828, the writer of these pages paid a visit to Fairfield, in company with his esteemed friend Mr. J. E of Manchester. Interesting as this tranquil retreat of such an exemplary churcli community as the United Brethren must have been to the visitors under any circumstances, yet on the present occasion the goiiiis loci derived its principal charm from its association with the history of Summerfield, in whose memory they felt mutually interested. There was the school-room in which he had been taught, with the book containing the records of his entry and departure as a scholar ; and a number of happy tyros "disporting on the margent green" of the enclosure, as he had done in his day. There was the chapel with its fine organ, the tones of which he liad so mu h delighted to ac- 212 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. company with his juvenile voice, for he was ever fond o£ singing. There, in one of the dwellings, were more touch- ing memorials of his later visit : an engraved likeness ; the couch beside which he knelt, while reading to and praying for his cousin Joseph ; his little American pocket Testament left behind, with a leaf still turned down at 1 Corinthians, 15; and the presence of his uncle himself, who, with his eyes overflowing with tears, referred to the incidents of this last earthly interview. And lastly, the neat sequestered cemetery, so remarkable for its simplicity, where — to adopt a single line from the poet, whose description of the bury- ing-place of the patriarchs in "The World before the Flood," is supposed to be delineated from a Moravian grave- ground — "The little heaps are ranged in comely rows,'" and over one of which the surname of '■ Snmmcrfield" was inscribed.* This visit, so interesting from these associa- tions, was rendered yet still more so by the courteous afiu- bility of the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Pohlman, the resident min- . ister and his lady. Mr. Summerlield was invited, and actually aimounced to preach in the chapel at Fairfield — a distinction never conferred upon a Methodist preacher before — and a large congregation assembled accordingly ; but the arrival of an olficial visitor at the time, and the death of the resident bishop, Moore, prevented this. To Mrs. Blackstock. " Fairfield, near Manchester, June 11, 1823. " My dearest Ellen — Your Imig and grateful letter came to me this morning ; it had been left at Fairfield by Mr. C yesterday, although I lost the pleasure of seeing him, having gone to Manchester. Last night I spent an * "Joseph Summerfiekl, departed June 8, 1823, aged 21 years." HIS VISIT TO ENG-LAND. 213 hour or two with Mr. S ; he proceeds to-day to Shef- field and Leeds, where I expect also to be in ten days or a fortnight, but must first proceed to Liverpool to-morrow. In Amelia's letter, I have mentioned the afflictions of my uncle's family : it calls to my mind my OAvn, and especially on tliis very day last year. Mr. B. will never forget that day, when standing by my bed in Doctor Sargent's chamber: every moment I expected my change, and having no power to speak on account of the incessant bleeding from my lungs, I made signs for a writing-table, and being bolstered up in bed in a sitting posture, I wrote the enclosed paper :* it was never seen by any other eye ; and in giving it to you, it is not for any other reason than to put yon in mind of that day, and to excite your gratitude and thanksgiving to Him who held my head above the water-floods, and again said, ' Live I' Oh that it may be to his honor and glory I " "With regard to my spared life, I can say little as to its Jong continuance ; certainly I shall never see threescore years and ten : I am only anxious to live to the Lord while I live, and die to him Avhen I die, that living or dying I may be the Lord's." On Sunday the 22d of June, he preached in Leeds-street chapel, Liverpool. " It is," says he, when writing home, "the first time since my arrival in England; and yet, al- though I name this to show you that I am not quite dead, you must not infer that because I have begun I shall con- tinue : no, it will be very, very, very seldom repeated, and I shall always inform you when it is." His journal was altogether neglected during the year of his sojourn in Eng- land ; but it is gratifying to learn from the following ex- tvact — indeed from his correspondence generally, that while his body was confined by the weakness of the flesh, his soul was at the same time progressing in holiness. * This \p\{cY i^nclosed thf testamentary paper given page 151. 214 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. To Dr. Samuel Baker. "LivERPoni,, June 23, 1823. "My dear Friend and Brother — I know you will ex- pect to hear something concerning myself — and this is the cross which my friends compel me to bear daily ; I would rather write on any other subject. Well, then, I find that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. He is ray unchangeable friend. He is my all, and in all. Of late he has been tempering down the natural hardness of my heart, that it may receive some deeper impressions of the mind which was also in him. I mourn over the base- ness of the material upon which this is to be wrought, but still I do feel that the more I contemplate and behold the glory of my Lord, the more I am changed into the resem- blance of the original by the Spirit ol" the Lord. But what have I said ? And yet is not this the very perfection of our dispensation ? that we may pre&s after the fulness of the stature of a man in Christ Jesus. I have lately dwelt much on those inexhaustible words of the apostle John : 'Beloved, now are we the sons of God ; and it doth not yet appear %vhat ive sJtall be.' I cannot grasp them : there is a world of meaning in them. 'It doth not yet appear.' It is not yet made manifest; but it shall appear, and the world which now knoweth us not, shall witness the manifestation of the sons of God ; for, conformed to our Head, 'we shall be like him.' What can this mean? Utterance fails — the heart cannot conceive. '"'We fall before liis feet, And silence heightens heaven.'' " As regards my poor body, it is yet compassed about with infirmitieri ; my general health is tolerably good, and except this cough, of which I complain, I am as I have been since I knew you. My cough is of a singular character, for although I expectorate considerably with- it, no weak- ness is produced, and my natural strength is good. I can HIS VISIT TO ENGLAND. 215 walk for hours without fatigue, and cat my food abundantly and with good relish. I am living with a physician in this town, with whom I have been associated from my childhood, and brought up at the same school, and almost fed at the' same table. Yesterday morning I preached for the first time in England in one of the largest chapels iu this town, and felt no inconvenience consequent. " Remember me affectionately to all my friends in Balti- more, and first of all to my friend and brother Soule. Up- braid him for not having written to me ; and yet this would come with no weight from you, seeing you are in the same condemnation. Mrs. D , Mrs. B , E , and all the children, share my love. "Believe me to remain, "My dear doctor, ever yours, "J. SUMMERFIELD." At the "physician's house" alluded to in the preceding letter, "I had," says the E.ev. \Y. Stewart, "the pleasure of meeting my beloved Summerfield. I was greatly affected at witnessing his pale and emaciated appearance. I in- quired of the doctor in his absence, ' Do you think it possi- ble Mr. Summerfield can recover ?' The doctor replied, 'With great care he may live two years, but he cannot possibly live longer.' In this the doctor manifested his con- summate skill, both with reference to the case and constitu- tion of his friend. My very heart sighed, and said, 'Alas, my brother.' " On the ne.x^t day he wrote again to his young friend, now in the ministry. To the Rev. Tliomas B. Sargent. '■ Liverpool, 2-ltli June, 1S33. "My dear Thomas — I must now stop. I see I have filled one-third of my letter with the cases, of a per- sonal pronoun — I was going to say with the declensions of one — but perhaps it is rather an impi-oper term. 216 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. "And now, my dear Thomas, I come to you — though last, not least — and yet I am pausing what to say; indeed, 1 want words for matter. And so you are now lully em- ployed, that is, as much as your other duties will permit, in making known to men the word oi' reconciliation. 0, had I the wings of a dove, with what delight I could now sit under your shadow at the foot of the pulpit. Your image is ever before me, nor do I need any Inauer to remind me of every feature ; but then I never properly saw them lighted up by the shining forth of the candle of the Lord within you when standing in the character of ambassador of God. "Oh, my dear, dear Thomas, I have sweet remembrance of you in my prayers, being mindful also of your tears. I am Ji/lcd with joy ; yea, I am very full of comfort. My Father who is in heaven has mingled no such sweet in my cup as that which you afford me. ' 1 live, if you stand fast in the Lord.' "'Happy, if with tliy latest breath Thou may'st but gasp his name, Preach him to all, and cry in death, BohoIJ, beht.lil the Lamb.' "Yes, my dear Thomas, exalt the Lamb. 'He is wor- thy.' Hang every spoil you have gained from the enemy upon his cross, and lay every honor you may receive from men at his feet. I do long to see you ; nor will any one thing in America tend to hasten my return more than to be 'somewhat filled with your company.' I shall see you now with other eyes ; no longer the keeper of the sheep-fold, but the anointed of the Holy One, to bear his name among the Gentiles. Walk worthy of thy high calhng, and great shall be thy reward in heaven. " Write to me again and again and again. Remember me to my foster-mother. Put her in mind of the eleventh day of this month last year. I thought of her on that day, lor I read in her anxious face at that time, 'there is but HIS VISIT TO ENCrLAND. 217 a stc}} between Ihce and death.' God bless her a thonsand- ibld. "Present my respects to all, and beheve me, my dear Thomas, "Thine till death, '^J. SUMMERFIELD.- To Samuel Harden, Esq. "Liverpool, July 10, 1S23. "My health is much as whdn I last wrote; the Good Physician still holds me in lile, though with a slender thread. I do not yet knoAV the end oi" his dealings with me in this respect ; but he is too wise to err, and too good to be unkind. He will do all things well. I cannot promise myself long life, as far as human reasoning directs, though with God all things are possible. All my desire is, that I may yet stand before him in his sanctuary a little longer, to point poor sin- ners to the scene on Calvary — the bleedhig Jesus. "My heart was j:nuch rejoiced yesterday by a circum- stance little looked for. A man called upon me to acknow- ledge me his spiritual father, of whom I had not the most distant recollection. He lives in Aiklow in Ireland, and having heard that I was in England, he set of]' for no other ])ur])ose than to lay his eyes on me, as he said, once more. He informed me that four years ago, as I was preaching in that town in the open air — 'for no other place was large enough to contain the multitude' — God converted his soul, and gave him a clear evidence of his acceptance, which he has since retained. He reminded me of the text on the occasion — ' They that sow in tears shall reap in joy ' — and I found that he had the sermon almost written upon his heart. These are comfortable results of our weak labors ; we see not now the fruits; it is often not until after the laborer has fallen asleep, that the seed springs up ; and the death of the minister has often given birth to many precious souls who had been heretofore only liearers of the Avord. SuniniprfieM. 1 218 REV. JOHN STJMMERFIELD. May this thought comfort us continually, and may we know, in more than their primary sense, the application of the apos- tle's words, 'For me to live is Christ, but to die is gain.' " In a letter to Mrs. Blackstoclc, dated Liverpool, July 10, 1S23, occurs the following passage : "Your second letter of the 13th is almost exclusively devoted to the subject of my health and my return home. I know they are both inter- esting subjects, and often mix themselves with the fireside conversation, and often alFord a theme to break the silence which sometimes exists in the chief seat of the table. My health, and my return home I I feel myself growing dull, or rather sorrowful. Home is a word which has a spell in it, and I am now operated upon by it almost to a momentary melancholy. Sometimes I view the di.stance as so great, and so measure the ocean that rolls between us, that I start and say, 'Shall I ever see that place again?' At other times I am so buoyant that I consider it but as tivo stejJS, by one of which I take my foot ofi' Europe, and by the other set it on America. I believe, however, both these ways of viewing it are erroneous : they arc the extremes. May God help me to overcome all difficulties, and bring me to the desired haven." His letters to his younger sisters, to his father, and to Mr. Blackstoek, breathe similar sentiments. At this date he also wrote the two following delightful letters to young men whom he watched over with the ten- derness of a father in the gospel. To Rev. William M. WiUett. '• LivERPooi,, 10th July, 182.3. "My dear William, whom I love in the truth — It is but a few days since I learned, by letters from America, that you have now put on the harness of the Christian min- ister. To describe to you my feelings on this account would be imjmssihlc. AYhcn I read the intelligence, my licart fluttered in such a manner that I knew not which was the greater exciting cause — }o\. or hope, or fear. Even when HTS VISIT KiENGLAND. 219 the passions subsided, I thoutrht I could find more oi anxiety in the preponderating scale than of any other feeling. Oh, my dear WilUam, what shall I say ? I am not painfLdbj fearful concerning you, hut I am inezp-essibly anxious for the result. I have confidence in you in all things ; but then you have entered upon an nnheaien path, a path which you never trod before. You have commenced a warfare, not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and pow- ers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. You have now left the ranks, and become a leader under the Captain of our sal- vation ; and honorable as is the step you have taken, yet it cannot be disguised from you, that by this step you have set yourself as a mark to the powers of hell, who will direct against you instruments of warfare and modes of temptation, which, as a inivate member of the church, yo\i might have for ever remained a stranger to. The god of this world is well aware that if he can produce 'Cs\& fall or defection of the standard-bearer, the people will flee every man to his own house, and panic-struck, never again rally under the banner of the cross. He knows that when great limbs are severed from the tree, many twigs will fall with ihem ; or, in plain language, the falling aAvay of him Avho has preached to others, is more calculated to destroy the flock of Christ than all the open warfare whioli the devil or his agents could inaintaiu against them. "But I check myself AYrite I these things to hinder you ? Nay, but as my beloved son I warn you ; and if I have succeeded in casting you down for a moment, it is that you may know where your place of safety lies. The cross, my dear William, the foot of the cross, nntst be your resting- place ; the Crucified must be the object ever before your mind ; ' Without thee I can do ?iothing,' nmst ever be ou your tongue, and that from unfeigned lips ; and every honor which the Head of the church may put upon you, must be 220 REV. JOHN StJMMERFIELD. hung as a tropliy on his cross, while 'not unto one, not unto me, but unto thy name be all the glory,' must be the lan- guage of your heart. If you walk by this rule, and mind this same thing, the gates of hell will not be able to prevail against you ; you will stand forth in all the might of an ambassador of God. Your word will be with power : shak- ing and trembling will seize the sinner, w^hile the believer will recognize in you an apostle, not of men, neither by the will of man, but of God the Father, and Jesus Christ whom he raised from the dead. May the Lord give you under- standing in all things. " I trust that the hardships of the circuit to which you have been appointed will be no stumbling-block to you. It is nothing compared with what I endured the first two years of my ministry in the various parts of Ireland, by night and by day ; and if ever I grew weary and faint in my mind, I applied to the Strong for strength, and thus always found that his grace was sufficient for me, and that he caused strength to be imparted to me proportioned to my need. My dear William, keep eternity full in view, and the recom- pense of reward, and you will find it the best antidote either against all the treasures of Egypt, or all the alllictions you may be called upon to sufler. Remember you are in a warfare, and seek not for eaae ; and may God give you grace to acquit yourself as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. " My paper fills up, and my heart is not at all discharged of its burden. I have much, very much to say ; but I ivill not, I cannot do it with paper and ink. Soon I hope to see you face to face. Meantime, get ' Clark's Letter to a Young Preacher ;' make it your own by digesting its invaluable con- tents : it is in our book-room, and is worth its weight in gold. " Farewell. May God bless you, and ever have you in his holy keeping. " Allectionately your fellow-servant, "J. SUMMERFIELD." HIS VISIT TO ENG-LAND. 22\ To Rev. Thomas B. Sargent. '•Liverpool, lOtii July, 1823. "My PRECIOUS Thomas — I should have been glad to hear from you after the Philadelphia conference, anxious to know what preachers you have among you. From New York I have received intelligence respecting that city ; among the rest, that William "\Yillett has been appointed to the east end of Long Island. I cannot but regret this, as I fear the breaking in will be too severe. I have written to him by this packet to cheer him up ; I trust that God will support him, strengthen his hands, and confirm his knees, and hold him on the even tenor of his way. I am fond of pleasing myself with the conjecture that perhaps Thomas is also thus employed, and that the reason of his silence is the bustle of preparing for his outgo ; such as getting saddle- bags, horse, whip, etc., and packing up his linen, with \\es- ley's hymns and pocket Bible. Well, should it ?iot be, the time may come, and if you prevent not, ivill come. I be- lieve that God has certainly called you to be a minister in the gospel of his dear Son. Be not thou disobedient to the heavenly call, and be thou faithful therein, neither receive this grace of God in vain. The fathers are passing away, and breaches are daily making in the ranks of the standard- bearers : Oh that God would raise up a host of pious youths ardently waiting to catch the standards ere they fall from the veterans of the cross ; that instead of the fathers may be the children, and yet the children's children. " Remember me affectionately to my friends. My health is much as when I last wrote, and my soul is athirst for all the salvation of God. Last Sabbath I .ij.>isted in adminis- tering the Lord's supper to about six hundred people ; the Lord supped with us, and made our feast a little heaven. Farewell, my dear Thomas. Still remember me, as I also do you. Ever aflectionately yours, •'J. SUMMERFIELD.-' vi22 REV. J(JHN SUMMERFIELD. Oil the 30th ot" June, the Britisli conference opened at Sheflield, at which place it is held once in six years. At this celebrated mart of cutlery Mr. Suininerfield spent about a week, during which he was domiciled with my worthy friend T B , Esq., partaking the elegant hospitali- ties of this gentleman's house with his old and valued friend Dr. Townley and the Rev. Mr. France, who having trav- elled at Preston, was not unknown to his family. His appearance was very unhealthy ; his countenance, formerly so fair and delicate, appeared to be pufled up and slightly cadaverous in its hue. He complained chiefly of a pain in his side, which was so violent one night, that in the morn- ing he told Mrs. B , who nursed him with a mother's care, that he had with difliculty refrained from calling them up, in order to obtain the assistance of a surgeon to open a vein. At this conference, to the sittings of which Mr. Sum- merfield was freely admitted and treated with great respect, the Rev. Messrs. Richard Reece and John Hannah were appointed to proceed to the United States, to reciprocate the friendship of the American conference, which had been expressed four years belbre by their representative the Rev. John Emory. It was agreed that Mr. Summerfield, on his return home, should accompany these gentlemen to America. * ^ * After his return from Sheliield, and having visited among other places Frodsham, Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, and Runcorn, he took up his residence with Anthony Bad- ley, Esq., a gentleman of piety and fortune, then residing at Weston Hill, near the hitler place. While under the roof of his kind entertainer, a portrait was painted of this "in every respect, extruonlinarij ipung man," as Summerfield is just- ly designated by Mr. B . This picture, which the wor- thy owner regards as a " beautiful likeness," has been by him courteously transmitted iijr the author's inspection : may HIS VISIT TO ENGLAND. 223 Mr. B be long spared to conleinplate this precious me- morial of such a friend in his present residence — Llanrhydd House, in the far-famed and beautiful vale of Clwyd, North Wales. To D r Thomas Sargent. " Liverpool, August 15, 1823. " My dear Friend — Having promised you the earliest intelligence from the English conference, which was con- cluded but two days ago, and from which I have just return- ed, I lose no time in forwarding it to you by the packet which sails to-morrow. The appointment has devolved upon Mr. Reece, and a second has also been appointed to accompany him, Mr. John Hannah, a junior preacher of six or seven years' standing, but a young man of respectable talents ; they take their departure in March next. " I look forward with great solicitude to our approaching General Conference ; I hope much, but I fear tyiore : I am anxious that the report borne back by our English brethren may establish that high character of us with which Mr. Emory's talent and worth and piety possessed them, and that their aflection to America with which he reinspired them, may become confirmed and durable : but then this long-agitated question — that it were buried in the bottom of the sea I arul it may, if there should be a sea, an ocea?i of love, among us at the time. Let us begin to pray for an outpouring of the spirit of meekness, oi" brotherly-kindness, and at the same time of heavenly wisdom ; that while we possess the wisdom of the serpent, we may connect with it the harmlessness of the dove. Remembering that Jesus is yet the Head of the church, let us s])read the case before him : he has long held us in his right hand, yea, in the hol- low of his hand ; soon shall we see that "'His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour ; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.' 224 REV. JOHN yUMAlEK-l'IELl). " A very serious and awi'ul occurrence took place at the opening of conlerence, and had a solemnizing eflect during the whole of its session : a coach in which were seven preach- ers on their journey to this annual assembly, was overturn- ed ; only one escaped unhurt ; one died in a few hours, his name was Sargent ; a second died on the second day, and others are lying dangerously ill, mangled Mnd bruised to a frightful degree. Oh, how mysterious I Surely ' He plants his footsteps in the sea :' we cannot track his design herein ; may it preach to each of us, ' Be ye also ready ; for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.' Fare- well. " Ever affectionately yours, '•J. SUMMERFIELD.'' Towards the latter end of the year, he opened a hand- some new chapel at Bilston in Suffolk ; it is to a print of this house that he refers in the last clause of the following extract from a letter to his youngest sister : " I have of late more resembled the wandering Arab than the domestic European, and have literally had no certain dwelling-place. However, lest you should imagine that like the Arabian, I have been dwelling in tents, and not in ceiled houses, I send you an engraving of one of my visiting places — and a most lovely one it is as ever you saw." To Dr. Samuel Baker. "Liverpool, October 2-1, 1823. "The climate of England has been more congenial to me in every respect, Lthan that of France,] and I rejoice to say that my inner man is renewed day by day ; I love my Master, and I love his work ; 1 love his wages, and I love his servants ; and if I hate any thing, it is my own life — for I count not my life dear to me, that I may finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the grace of God As respects my bodily health, it is greatly improved, and 1 now look forward with some well-grounded HIS VISIT TO ENG-LANJL*. 225 hope that I shall bo restored again to your prayers, it' it he hut for a little season. " I am now directing my face towards America ; God is my record how greatly I long after you all. Early in the year I hope to take my departure ; but you shall hear from me before that time, so as to know my final arrangements. I have just returned from Birmingham, where I have spent a month most dehghtfully ; I was a good deal with Mr. and Mrs. Foxall, who are both well, and now travelling among Mr. F.'s relations in "Wales."' To Rev. Til m a s B . S a r g « n t . " Liverpool, October 24, 1823. " My dear Thomas — It is now a mouth since I wrote to you, but 'tis an age since I heard from you. I suppose you are reserving all your good sayings until I can receive them fresh from your own lips ; and yet I still think that you have such an abundance of them that the stock would bear a con- siderable reduction without any sensible diminution : surely you might inclose me — if it were but half a dozen — feelings of your heart, made tangible in the form of words ; and I promise you, if you knew how I prize them you would do so. ^ " My own letters to America are now drawing to a close ; early in the year I hope, by the good hand of my God upon me, to embark for my much-loved home. My health is so much improved that I preach about once a week, and find moderate exercise in this way beneficial. I am aware that in the bare mention of this I am rousing all your anxieties, but then, though I can keep nothing from you, I assure you, at the same time, that I am much more prudent than I have ever been, and your fears are groundless. I confine myself to preaching on Sunday morning, never choosing an evening appointment ; indeed, I generally liouae myself after five o'clock, and tMijoy my friend and his fireside : tca-parlie& I 10* 226 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. havo aUogctlier laid aside, and my friends know they need use no importunity to prevail on me. By this means, and extreme care in my clothing, regularity in my exercises, and great attention to my diet, but above all, through His bless- ing concerning whom we sing, 'Except the Lord conduct the plan, The best concerted schemes are vain. And never can succeed' — through His blessing I am what I am, and to him shall be devoted all that life he bestows, even to its latest moment of existence. that he would make me fully conformed to the image of his Son. " I trust my dear Thomas is growing in grace — striking his roots deeper into that rich soil of humble love in which all the graces of the Spirit thrive ; and while he is feeling after these depths, I trust he is also overtopping the tallest cedars of Lebanon, and clustering on every bough with all the fruits of righteousness, which are by Christ Jesus, unto the glory and praise of God the Father. •' Remember me aflectionately to your dear pai'ents ; I M'rite to them tlirouglb you : may my dear Thomas ever be worthy of them. " Ever yours, etc., "J. SUMMERFIELD.-' The following letter was addressed to captain Williams, a member of the Baptist church, owner of the fine ship Six Brothers, before referred to. " RuiNxoRN, December 22, 1823. "My dear Captain Williams, my Christian friend and brother, whom I love in the truth — At this season of the year it is natural that 1 should have you much upon my mind. Not that I have ever forgotten you, for God is my record that I have good remembrance of you in my prayers ; but at this time especially, when I am reminded of my de- HIS VISIT TO ENU-LAND. 227 pailure from my family and friends, as on this week a year ago, I cannot but connect with this recollection the grateful feelings which pervade my whole soul towards you. I have never thought of you but with aflection ; and I have won- dered what could have moved your unmerited kindness to me, who was altogether a stranger to you. It was not the 'friendship of the world :' this induces every man to look on his oion things only, and weigh accurately the profit that would accrue from every transaction ; but your disinterested kindness bears a higher stamp than nature ever impressed. I see in it the counterpart of an apostle's doctrine : ' Loving Him that begat, we love them also that are begotten of him ;' and unworthy as I am to be accounted a disciple of our common Lord, yet you have done what you have done in regard to this relationship. I can only endeavor to heap blessings on your head : thaiiks is a poor return ; and in reference to my friends, I should mourn over my poverty much more if I did not remember who hath said, ' A cup of cold ivatcr given to a disciple in the name of a disciple, shall not lose its reward.' I can boldly, therefore, transfer my debt to Him who has promised to repay. I feel confident that my God will supply to you all my lack out of his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. Thanks to you, my dear friend, again and again ; and may the incarnate Immanuel, whose advent into this lower world we at this season commemorate, take up his residence within your heart, and sanctify you throughout, body, soul, and spirit. This is the will of God concerning you, aird faithful is he that hath called you, who also will do it. Be strong in the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, hold fast that which you have attained, and p/t'ss on; that when you fail on earth, you may be received into everlasting habitations. Amen and amen. "If you sec captain Mason, remember me affectionately to him. He was every thing to me that I could wish, a father, a nurse, a servant ; and with all the trouble I gave 228 REV. JUllJSt aUMMERFlELD. him through my weakness ol' body, he never seemed weary of serving me to the utmost of his power. May God reward him a hundred-fold. Farewell. " Your aiiectionate friend and servant, "J. SUMMERFIELD." In a letter to his father under the same date as the pre- ceding, Mr. Sumrnerdeld wrote as follows — and the intelli- gence was melancholy indeed with reference to a gentleman who had shown him no small kindness in the United States : "When I reflect upon the loss of many of my friends and acquaintance in the past year, who promised a long, long term of years, I am lost to know why I linger here below. This morning I have received the intelligence of the sudden death of Mr. Foxall. He was fully calculating on returning to America with me and brother Ileece. A few weeks ago I parted with him full of health, and now he is no more. 'Be ye also ready.' is sounding in my ears ever since."' On the 10th of February, 1821, he wrote to his old class-leader the Rev. Patrick French, then a Wesleyan mis- sionary on the island of Antigua in the West Indies. ■'RuNcoiiN, near Liverpool, February 10, 1824. "My ever nKLovEU Father and Friend, whom I un- ceasingly love in the truth — What shall I say unto you ? Not that the dilliculty arises in the want of matter, but in the selection from that abundance of it which now presses upon my mind the moment I undertake to write to you. " Although I have been in England ever since the month of May last, I have not been able to visit Ireland. I thought I perceived an unwillingness on the part of the Irish preach- ers ; indeed I scarcely think they have from their hearts forgiven me lor leaving them : but the authority of a par- ent, and that a 2>wifs one, compelled the change, and I am now satisfied that the good hand of my God was with me. He has prospered me in America, above all that I could have asked or thought ; but 1 dare not trust my own heart UlS VISIT TO ENG-LANLi. 229 to enter into particulars — 'tlie day shall declare it.' lu ref- erence, however, to my much-loved Ireland, I am now quite relieved by two letters I have received within the last week from my best friend in all that country — my dear William Steivart. I only regret that I cannot now accept his invi- tation to come and receive at the mouths of many the wel- come of their 'inside hearts,' as he calls it. But alas, with all this there is mingled the intelligence that brother Steele is gone to his reward. that we may ever stand with our loins girded up, ready to follow the Bridegroom whenever he appeareth. "I am, as ever, "Yours, in the best of bonds, "J. SUMMERFIELD." His friend Mr. Badley having removed from Weston Hill to Linacre, to avoid the winter's blast, to which the for- mer situation was exposed, Mr. Summerfield accompanied him to this new residence, and, says he, January 29, 1824, "A more delightful spot I could not have chosen." " Since my last," he observes, "I remain much as usual ; indeed I am like a 'creaking gate' whose hinges are half consumed, but yet it hangs on." From this retreat he Avrote again to Mr. Blackstock, " Mth of February, 1S24." This letter was the last he wrote from England. 230 REV. JOHN SUMMEIiFIELD. CHAPTER XVI. KETURNS TO AMERICA— LETTERS— ATTENDS THE BALTIMORE CONFERENCE— ORDAINED AN ELDER— APPOINTED A MISSION- ARY WITHIN THE BOUNDS OF BALTIMORE CONFERENCE- LETTER TO ENGLAND— EXTRACTS FRO!\I DIARY— COLLECTIONS FOR THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY— AT ^ALTIMORE IN EXTREME DEBII-ITY. Mr. Summerfield had now been fifteen months absent from America ; and although the latter moiety of that pe- riod had been spent in England, the land of his nativity, and amid generous friends and Christian brethren who evinced towards him the greatest respect, he felt neverthe- less that he was from home. His bowels yearned towards his father, his brothers, and sisters, whom in recollection, as •well as in imagination, he saw assembled about the domestic hearth, the happiness of which he knew suflered some dim- inution on account of his absence ; and where he could not but fancy he might find that repose which appeared still to be so necessary for the reestablishment of his shattered health. But above all, he sighed to be again engaged in that blessed work of calling sinners to repentance, to which his whole soul was so entirely given up. On the 16th of March, 1824, he bade farewell, alas, a final farewell, to England, and embarked on board the Orbit, captain Tinkham, and on the 19th of April arrived in New York, " contrary to all my expectations, with a slight degree of improved health." His return to America had, as before intimated, been expected by a packet vessel which saUed in February ; and how cordial a welcome awaited him from one who is now a bishop of that church of which he was a minister, will bo seen from the following extract of a letter written by the Ilev. Joshua Soule from Baltimore, March 25, and address- ed to Mr. Summerfield at New York : "I received informa- LABORS IN AMERICA. 231 liou through the Commercial Advertiser, oi' the arrival of the packet and the names of the passengers, the morning previous to the receipt of your letter, and I shall not attempt to describe my feelings when I read the names of Messrs. Reece and Hannah, and found not yours — but my painful apprehensions were but for a clay ; and I assure you, when 1 ascertained that the cause of your delay was not sickness, or any peculiarly adverse providence, I rejoiced with thanks- giving. Welcome, thrice welcome, my dear John, to the shore of my native, and your adopted home." Three days after his arrival he attended the anniversary of the missionary society, and on the Sunday following he preached at Brooklyn, New York, to an overflowing congre- gation. The highly spiritual state of his mind may be inferred from the following letters. To Rev. Thomas B. Sargent. " New Yoek, April 26, 1824. " My dear Thomas — I suppose you have long thought it was high time for me to write to you, and indeed so it is ; but if you knew how much I have been occupied since my return, you would at least palliate the oflence, if not alto- gether exculpate me. You have been much on my mind, in my heart, and on my tongue ; my heart's desire and prayer to God for you is, that he would open your way, exalt the valleys, bring down the mountains, make the crooked places straight and the rough places plain, and thus clearly mark out for you the path in which he would have you to go. Remember, that difficulty is a word which has no meaning when applied to Him : it is not in heaven's vocabulary ; power belongs to God. Look out of yourself, and altogether upon him : let your heart ever say, ' Lord, here I am ; what wouldst thou have me to do V Ever feel, that though in yourself all weakness, you ' can do all things THROUGH Christ which strengtheneth you.' 232 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. " I do believe, mj^ dear Thomas, that the Lord will yet hold you like a star iii his right hand, by which he will illu- uiiuale the churches. that I may live to see it ; then, indeed, will my very heart rejoice. My dear Thomas, seek to lose yourself altogether in the will of God. Have no choice ol" your own ; neither hope nor desire, but according to the will of God. If ho will, do you will , if he nill, do you nill ; mark his finger in every thing relating to you : remember, your hairs are all numbered ; and if he regard tJtese, no circumstance which can happen to you is too trivial for him to overrule to your eternal welfare. Take up every cross ; never turn aside to avoid one, you will always hnd tico in the place of it ; go into every open door, and cry unto Hmi continually to be endued with power from on high. Let your religion, like the apostle's, be summed up in this comprehensive expres.sion, 'God, whose I am, and whom I serve :' make an entire surrender of a whole heart to a per- fect Saviour ; thus will you realize the first part of this sen- tence, ' whose I am :' the second part will follow as a con- sequence. Feel yourself the servant of Jesus Christ ; this was the highest character ever aspired after by the great apostle of the Gentiles ; at the feet of his Lord he had laid his character, reputation, talent, nay, his lite itself: in this re.'^pect our Wesley also imitated him : " ' Take my soul and body's powers ; Take my memory, mind, and will ; All my goods and all my hours, All I know and all I feel ; All I think and speak and do ; Take my heart, and make it new." Thus indeed will you become a new creature : old things will be passed away ; behold, all things will become new. " Ever your very affectionate " Friend and brother, •■J. SUMMERFIELD." LABORS IN AMERICA. 233 To Mr. Samuel Harden. "New York, April 30, 1824. " My dear. Friend and Brother — I ieav that your high expectations respecting my health will be humbled by our interview ; but I am alive, and why should a liviJig man complain ? My only anxiety on the subject is connected with the church of God. I wish to be fully etiicient, that " ' All my powers, with all their might, Li her sole gloiy may unite.' However, I am in His hands who can hold me up, and make my bow abide in strength : my heart ever cries out, " ' for a trumpet voice On all the world to call.' " On the 1st of May he proceeded to the general confer- ence held in Baltimore, halting by the way to preach at Philadelphia. His emotions may be better conceived than described, on being thus permitted once more to hold forth the word of God in the city where, two years before, his life had been despaired of. Great as had been his former popu- larity, he still found the Philadelphians his " unchangeable friends ;" his reception was equal to his expectations. He attended the sittings of this conference, and on the 19th of May he was ordained elder. The Rev. Richard Reece, from England, preached the preparatory sei'mon, and bishop M'Kendree presided ; bishops George and Roberts were also present. "I was presented," says he, "by my valued friend and brother, now my bishop, Soide ; and he, with Rev. E. C , F. G , J. W , assisted in the laying on of hands. To describe my feelings is impossible ; it was a day never to be forgotten. I renewed my vows unto the Lord, in the presence of the most august assembly I ever expect to meet on this side of heaven." * * * In consequence of the precarious state of his health, and by the advice of physicians, he was appointed by this con- 234 REV. JOHN SUMiMERFlELD. fercnce a missionary within its limits for the ensuing year, with liberty to visit any region north or south, as his physi- cians should recommend. * * * May 29th, Mr. Summerfield returned to New York, " exhausted in body, depressed in mind, but confiding in the God of providence and grace." In a letter to Dr. Baker he remarks, " We had a tedious journey of it; and although I rested at home the whole of yesterday, I still feel the effects. My sister was still more jaded, and prefers staying at home to accompanying me into the city ; however, after the fatigue is over, I hope we shall both show that the kind- ness of our friends in Baltimore has produced ' marrow in our bones.' For my own part, my friends here speak very flatteringly of the change in my appearance. I hope it may be permanent, and that my future stay among you may tend to the prosperity of my body and my soul." He preached in Brooklyn at the dedication of a new Methodist church, on the Gth of June ; the Rev. J. Hannah from England preached on the same occasion. And on the following Sunday, he occupied the pulpit in John-street church. New York. In connection with this service he re- marks, " I never remember so gracious a time under my feeble ministry." After the close of the sittings of the general conference, he M-rote by the English delegates to his esteemed friend Anthony Badley, Esq. : "The work of God in this country is extending and widening on every side. We have had to increase the num- ber of our annual conferences from twelve to seventeen, and to ordain two new bishops at the general conference, so that we have now five superintendents. I know not Avhere it will stop ; but God forbid that it should ever c«ase until the know- ledge of the glory of the Lord shall cover the whole earth. "I trust that the report which Mr. Recce will be pre- pared to make to the British conference will fully realize my LABORS IN AMEHICA. 235 warmest anticipations. I believe that both he and Mr. Hannah have been more than satisfied — ' The half had not been told them.' As it regards themselves, they have given universal satisfaction. "At their parting with us at the general conference at Baltimore, I never saw a more aflecting scene : the confer- ence stood up, while the bishops, on behalf of the whole church, gave them the right hand of fellowship, and bade them a long farewell. Mr. Hannah joined in solemn prayer before they withdrew, and! was responded to with groanings which cannot be uttered. Our senior bishop, now grey with age and broken down with care, followed him, and recipro- cated in fervent petitions all the superabundance of spiritual blessings on the English connection, which the former had supplicated for the American church. It was a struggle foi the mastery ; but love was the contest, and each was in turn the conqueror and the conquered. "We again stood upon our feet, while our venerable apostle pronounced the benediction. But I cannot describe the scene : every eye was sufiliscd with tears ; business was suspended ; silence reigned, except when it was disturbed by the breaking forth of feelings which could not be sup- pressed. They left us, never to return ; and the senior«bishop accompanied them to the ship, sorrowing most of all that we should see their face no more. Oh, I felt at that mo- ment, and we all felt, that the Spirit of Christ lives among us. I fell, and we all felt, that Methodism is one wherever it is Ibund — that like seed producfts like fruit. Oh, I felt, and we all felt, that " ' Mountains may rise and oceans roll To sever us, in vain.' I saw that the prayer of our great High-priest had prevailed, ' that they may all be one.' I was abundantly satisfied. " But it is now high time to express my anxieties coii- iJerning my friend in Linacre. May I hope to 4iear from 236 REV. JOHN SUMMEE,F1ELD. you '.' Oh, favor me with this additional token of your love. How are you pros])ering ? I mean, in spiritual riches, for in this world's goods the great Proprietor of all has given you richly all things to enjoy. But the true riches, the unsearchable riches, the gold tried in the fire : are you abounding in these ? Abounding I yes ; for He has said, ' Ask what ye will, and I will do it for you.' With Him it is only ask and have ; but then ' ask in faith, nothing doubt- ing.' They are all yours, purchased by the precious blood of Christ, promised to all who come unto God by him, oflered by the Holy Spirit without money and without price. Oh, my dear friend, put in your claim for the fulness, the whole fulness ; honor God by beheving, for the accomplish- ment of his uttermost salvation, and you shall be saved with all the power of an endless life. " Yours, with all sincerity, ^•JOHN SUMMERFIELD." After corresponding with Dr. Baker on the propriety or impropriety of his visiting the city of Baltimore in the middle of summer, he resolved, in accordance with professional ad- vice, to mal'e a missionary excursion northward, in the com- pany of a gentleman from New York. He was at this time so feeble that he dreaded to undertake the journey ; and yet, says he, "I was fit for nothing else." He took the steam- boat to Albany, at which place he joined his companion, ia whose carriage they proceeded through New York state into Vermont, and to Middlebury, where they arrived on the 31st of July. To those who knew and loved as he deserved the sub- ject of these memoirs, it cannot be uninteresting to trace his progress through the brief remnant of his ministerial career. The very names of the places which he visited will form memorials, interesting to the recollections of many who will delight to recall, with the pious memory of the preacher, the scenes and circumstances which distinguished his minis- LABORS IN AMERICA. 237 trations. To avoid tautology, and at the same time to iden- tify Mr. Summerfield himself as much as possible with the progress of his mission, it Avill be best generally to quote from a very laconic diary, which he kept after his return to America, such entries as may appear interesting. "August 1, 1824. Preached in Middlebury on Sabbath morning, and was so exhausted in consequence that the re- mainder of the day was indeed a burden to me ; but the Lord blessed my soul. " 4th. Preached in the Presbyterian church, taking up a missionary collection for our Indian missions amounting to twenty dollars. " 8th. Sunday. Preached again in our church ; and never did I experience so great an increase of health and vigor as in the past week. My health seems renewed like the eagle's. " 10th. Preached in Burlington, in the court-house, to a 'polite audience, and spent an agreeable afternoon at the house of the governor." He was a brother of Judge Van Ness of New York. " 11th. Proceeded as far as Montreal in Canada; even here I found many friends. " 12th. Addressed the anniversary assembly of the Mon- treal Bible Society. " 15th. Preached this morning in the Methodist chapel; our society here is supplied by missionaries from the British conference. " 16th. Visited the Indian settlement of Goughnawaga ; a Catholic priest resides among them. " 18th. Preached again in Montreal in behalf of the Lancasterian free-school, and collected one hundred and ten dollars. " 20th. Preached in the Socinian church, Burlington, at their earnest request. I bless God that I had courage sufficient to prevent me from keeping back any part of the 238 REV. JOTTN SiaTMERFTELD. counsel of God. They were ofiended, and refused to come to hear me agnin. •' 22d. Sunday. Preached in the Presbyterian church, and raised a collection of thirty-four dollars in aid of our missions. " 23d. Departed from Middlehury, and arrived safely at Pleasant Valley, in New York state, on Friday followdng ; where I preached the same evctiiag to such a congregation as we could raise. " 29th. I preached at Poughkeepsie tivice. This is the first venture of the kind I have made since my hemorrhage in 1822. I found myself so far improved by this my jour- ney, that I was less fatigued than I had been by preaching once on the first Sabbath at Middlehury. In the afternoon I accepted the ofier of the Reformed Dutch church, being the most spacious in the toAvn, Next day I took my de- parture for New York, where I arrived safely on Tuesday, the 31st inst., after an absence of five weeks. My health is now better than it has been for some years; so that I am persuaded this journey was of God." To Bootor S.^mviel Baker. " New Yohk, September 6, 1824. " My dear Doc:tor — I)i laboring more abundantly than T have done at any period since my affliction in Philadel- phia, I have been supported by the great Physician of body and soul ; and while strengthened in the inner man, I have found also that the tabernacle has undergone considerable repair, and that my health is much improved. How long this mercy may be continued to me I know not. I wish to improve it to its full extent, and work while it is called to- day. I feel that I hold life by a very feeble tenure, and 1 wish therefore ever to be found in the spirit of sacrifice. " I rejoice to learn that your tour has been no less ben- eficial than my own, particularly in reference to her on LABORS IN AMERICA. 239 whose behalf it was mainly undertaken ; may she be long contiuued to you, to be blest and to be a blessing. I now look forward to my return among you with less painful forebodings. The gloom which hung around the horizon of Baltimore whenever I turned my eye in that dii-ection, is now considerably dissipated, and I anticipate a brighter scene, if God permit. " On Thursday next, the 15th inst., I leave this city fijr Philadelphia ; so you see I am now inclining my steps towards your little Bethany, where I hope ere long to min- gle with ' Martha and her sister and Lazarus.' And Oh, that your household may have as distinguished a character as that of Martha ' and the family whom Jesus loved.' " Believe me, my dear doctor, " Ever yours, in truest affection, "J. SUAIMERFIELD." On Saturday, the 18th, he arrived in Philadelphia, and on the following day preached to an immense multitude. Ten days afterwards the missionary board of the Philadel- phia conference appointed him to travel Avithin the states of Pennsylvania and New Jersey for one month, to form auxil- iary societies, and to take up collections in aid of this institu- tion. In a letter to Dr. Baker he says, "My health remains good — good for one ; I still labor a little for Him whom my soul loveth, and for ^\•hom I would gladly spend and be spent. I have indeed been considerably disappointed by my long separation from you, to which nothing would have reconciled me, but a belief that I Avas not out of the line of duty. I think I can positively state the time, please God, when I shall be with you ; but then it is a period so distant that I am afraid ' hope so long deferrec] will make the heart sick.' And yet, what is a month — a little month ? Agreeably with bishop M'Kendree's request, I have made my arrange- ments to devote a month to travel within the bounds of this conference, for missionary purposes. To-morrow I depart, 240 REV. JOHN PUMMERFIELD. in company with my dear Thomas," Rev. T. B. Sargent. " I have made my calculations, and determined to leave here on Monday the first of" November, arriving in Baltimore the following morning." To Dr. Thomas Sargent. " Lancaster, Oct. 7, 1824. " My dear Doctor — We promised to write to you once a week during our absence, and as it is a week this day since we left Philadelphia, we come within the engagement. We have arrived here within a few hours, safe and sound — and as to health, 'moving.'' Thomas would have written, but as he preaches this evening, and is as usual a good deal in the ' diihcrs ' till it is over, I have undertaken the mat- ter. We are travelling in a gig. The weather has been very unfavorable, and although there has been considerable rain, yet wc have been favored as the Jews were in the re- building of their temple — iJie rain fell all in the night, so that our work, like theirs, has not been impeded thereby. " I can give you no particulars as yet of what we have done : in Strasburg we suffered much in our collection for the want of due notice having been given, which the cross- post prevented us from doing. We have been among Ger- mans, and you know what a difficult task it is to coax money from them ; it comes like drops of blood from their fingers' ends. " I hope, however, that we shall not disappoint the ex- pectations of the committee, although I do think neither of us would covet such a begging mission again. With love to all your family, in which Thomas unites, I I'emain, " My dear doctor, yours, as ever, "J. SUMM.EE.FIELD." He accordingly preached, with reference to making col- lections and forming auxiliary missionary societies, at West- chester, Springfield, Churchtown, New Holland, Strasburg, Lancaster, Columbia, Harrisburg, Marietta, Eeading, Joanna ; LABORS IN AMERICA. 241 and on the 15th of October he returned to Philadelphia. After visiting New York, where he remained till the 27th, he again set out on his mission. "Nov. 1, 1824. Met the committee of the Missionary Board of the Philadelphia conference, and delivered my report. The whole amount collected was three hundred and fifty-eight dollars, and six auxiliary societies established. They apportioned me one hundred and eighty-five dollars, of which I gave T fifty ; travelling expenses were thirty, so that it left me one hundred and five dollars clear. This is the first church property I had received for two years, and I disbursed it all vipon my dear father in his affliction. " Nov. 2. Proceeded to Baltimore. 4th. Preached in Light-street, for the first time since my return. I am now comfortably settled here ; nothing can exceed the kindness of Dr. Baker and his family. My God, do thou remember them. "Dec. 1. Preached to the children in Light-street. 9th. Preached again to the children, and collected from them eighty dollars, to remit to my dear brother Finlay, who writes to me most plaintively to raise him fifty dollars. The gold and the silver is God's." * * * The following entry in Mr. Summerfield's diary will show that the imposition of his name was not confined to missionary children, on whom donors from time to time availed themselves of the privilege of conferring it. "Dec. 16. Went to open the ' Summerfield chapel' at Elkridge-landing, accompanied by the Rev. William Nevins and other friends. The Lord was graciously with me, and sufiercd not his word to fall to the ground." While at Baltimore, in the month of December, he sub- mitted to a course of salivation: that this would be bene- ficial, was alike the opinion of Dr. Baker, with whom he now dwelt, and of the physician with whom he resided some time while in Liverpool. Of the favorable result of this .=;iimmprfipl(l. 1 1 242 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. severe experiment, his friends as well as himself were very sanguine. "Writing to Mr. Blackstock, he says, " It is ex- pected that in the spring I shall fatten up after it, and visit you with a renewed constitution. My mouth is very sore with the mercury, which I rub on my right side every night ; and yet I am well able to preach, although I moderate my- self to once a week, namely, on Sunday morning, and occa- sionally exercise at public aniuversaries on the week-days, Bible societies, bethel unions, Sunday and free schools, mis- sionary societies, etc , all appearing to fall due just at this time. You need not, however, be uneasy ; I am in kind hands under Dr. Baker, and he will not sufier me, even loere I inclined — which I assure you I am not — to do any more than is quite consistent with my circumstances. I stay in always in the evenings, and have determined not to go to any tea-parties, except to iceddings, for I have begun to marry others, though I have no prospect of such a change for myself; so that I am sure you will commend my pru- dence." Weak as he M'as, he still continued to preach : after service in Light-street on Sunday morning, although he found his Master's promise, " Lo, I am Avith you always," graciously fulfilled, yet he remarks, " My physical powers are very weak, and I have seldom been more exhausted than at the close of this exercise ; I had to retire to bed. how should I value a sound constitution, were it the will of God. But it appears to me I am appointed to halt upon my thigh all the days of my life. Well, these light afflictions 'are not worthy to be compared with the glory which is to be reveal- ed." ' How meekly resigned to the will of God. Content to " halt upon his thigh," after long wrestling with the angel, and having obtained from Him the blessing which in Ireland he so often and bitterly agonized to find. The day follow- ing, he writes, " My allliction is so increased, that a consul- tation of physicians was held tn-day. I am interdicted a!) LABORS IN AMERICA. 243 public labors. I am the subject of constant fever. ' Lord, thy will be done.' " On Christmas-day, notwithstanding his general debility, and that his mouth, from the recent effects of the mercury, was almost too sore to allow him to speak, the absence ot Mr. JNevins left it almost imperative upon him to take an appointment. " I have resolved, therefore," says he, " to hold out to the end of the year, and then rest : if not, I shall soon be carried to my rest in the grave. I preached this morning, December 25, to t^ie colored ]jeoplc in Sharpe- street, and the word came with great power — we indeed realized the hymn we had been singing : " ' wouldst thou again be made known, Again in thy Spirit descend ; And set up in each of thine own, A kingdom that never shall end ; Thou only art able to bless, And make the glad nations obey ; And bid the dire enmity cease, And bow the whole world to thy sway.' The poor Africans appeared to be let into heavenly places ; every heart was full. "Sunday, 26th. Heard Mr. Bascum in the moi-ning, and preached myself in the afternoon at Mr. Nevins', from 1 Cor. 16 : 22. My strength now seemed entirely gone. " Monday, 27th. With a view of fulfilling my final en- gagement for this year, unwell as I was, I submitted to be carried to Dr. Henshaw's church, to address the anniversary meeting of the Young Men's Bible Society. During the meeting I sat in great pain, and as soon as I had done, was obhged to be carried home. For the remainder of the week I was confined to the house, and lost the enjoyment of all the sanctuary services with which the old year usually closes among us." 244 E.EV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. CHAPTER XVII. EXTRACTS FROM DIARY — LETTERS — EXTEMPORE PREACHING- LETTERS— RETURN TO NEW YORK— ADDRESS AT THE FORMA- TION OF THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY — LAST ILLNESS — DEATH-BED EXPRESSIONS— DIES IN THE LORD — PUBLIC SYM- PATHY— FUNERAL— MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTIONS. " Towards the close ol" any book of biography in which we have been pecnharly interested, there is something of apprehension experienced as we approach the last pages : we know the catastrophe which consummates every work of the kind, because the same is the consummation of every human life. Whose heart has not palpitated, whose hand has not trembled as if it felt a feebler pulse at turning over leaf after leaf, and whose eye has not keenly, eagerly, yet afraid and revoltingly, glanced on to the very line in which the last agony is described, as though it saw the dying look of one who had been ' very pleasant in life,' and from whom, even ' in the volume of the book,' it was hard to be divided? Yea, and we read with prophetic anticipation the record of the last moments of our endeared companion, as one warn- ing more of our own being so much the nearer than when we first became acquainted, though it -were but a few days ago."* The foregoing passage, so characteristic of the source whence it emanated, is not more striking than true ; and no reader having the common sensibilities of our nature — especially if those sensibilities are refined and exalt- ed by religion, pure and undefiled — can have proceeded to this point in the aflecting narrative of Mr. Summerfield's earthly course, without feeling something of the touching presentiment above referred to. We perceive with certainty how soon some fondly in- dulged hopes will be disappointed, and how shortly and * Montgomery'.s Introduction to Mpmoirs of Mrs. Susan Hunting- ton, of Boston. CLOSING SCENES. 245 surely some forebodings will be realized. This species of knowledge seems almost to annihilate the scope and indul- gence of anticipations that owe their existence to that un- certainty with which the good providence of God has so mercifully overhung the contingencies and duration of every human life. As the final period advances, the incidents of many past years appear to crowd their recollections into the brief remnant of weeks or days that are behind ; and in the records of the life of a good man, the memorials become in- creasingly precious to the heart, as they diminish in bulk to the eye — not so much from any difference in their nature, as from their peculiarity of situation. They are the key- stones of that arch of existence whose span extends from time into eternity, either segment of which — the dimly re- ceding past, or the invisible future — appear alike to owe their connection, if not their stability, to that which forms the point of contact. Under the date of February 11, 1825, Mr. Summerfield, weak as he was, and yet residing at Baltimore, recommenced his diary. "I am," says he in the introductory paragraph, " truly a mystery to myself The old year has rolled away, and the new year is fast following it, and no record of the dealings of God with my soul. tell me why — "'Why, my cold heiirt, art thou not lost In wonder, love, and praise?' The temptation of postponing all attention to my diary to a more convenient season, still haunts me, and by yielding thereto I am continually brought into darkness. My afflic- tion of body is urged as a reason ; and indeed, since the year commenced I have been greatly afflicted : but then I may never be otherwise, and thus w^hile vowing for to-moiToic, to-night I die. Painful, then, as it is to flesh and blood, I am resolved again — ^yes, again, often as I have done it be- fore — that, God being my helper, '"I'll praise him while he leads me breath,' 246 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. and hencetorward record from time to time more faithfully what he hath done for my soul. " My mind has been for some time in great darkness. 1 seem to have gone clean out of the way. I have no light. The new year opened propitiously to many, but, Ah me, that day was as the former." Here is distress and fear again. The dark lantern of the body often obscures the light of the soul clear shining within, so that it is hidden even from him who possesses it ; yet it will, it will break out at lucid inter- vals, and cast its bright beams, not on himself alone and his path, but upon all things and persons around him. And accordingly, ui the very next entry, when speaking of preaching in Light-street^ church, IVom 1 John, 1:9, he says, "Never do I "remember to have been more greatly blessed myself, or made a more general blessing to others : for a short season, even all that day, I was in the suburbs of the heavenly city. that I could have remained there without ever descending." "January 31. This is my birthday. Time strikes a solemn knell this day to me ; it may mean, ' Tlds year thou shait die.' I am truly siu-priscd that I am so little alive to this interesting season. My birthday was always an un- common event in my estimation, and my feelings were pe- culiar ; but how my spirit groans beneath a cumbering load of weakness and affliction, and how little are my spir- itual enjoyments. Lord, revive thy work. "Sunday, February G. I preached in Eutaw-street church, on ' What shall I render to the Lord for all his ben- efits?" Afterwards the communion was administered to a multitude beyond any number I ever saw in that solemn ordinance. The serving of the tables occupied an hour and a half; but 0, the Master was there, and the spirit was willing and enabled to endure the fatigue. "Feiuiuary 11. This day I have been greatly blessed in reading Wesley's sermons on the Wilderness Slate, and CLOSING SCENES. 247 Heaviness through Manifold Teiivptations. My clouds are beginning to break away : I have determined to live nearer to God than ever, that like him I may know no darkness at all. Lord, lift thou upon me the light of thy countenance. " Sunday, February 13. Preached this morning in Car- oline-street church, on Isaiah 1:10. I believe it was made a general blessing. This evening I had a most prolitabL' fireside conversation with the kind family with whom I reside. Their love to me is wonderful. Lord, remember them for good. "Yesterday afternoon I heard a profitable discourse from brother Wells, on ' Consider one another to provoke to love.' His remarks on the words 'consider one another,' I hope never to forget. Consider the age, the constitutional tem- per, the educational impressions, etc. 0, if we considered one another more, how it would lead us tenderly to caution, advise, reprove one another in love ; and how little of evil- speaking would there be, were these solemn words always impressed on us, ' With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured unto you again.' God will fulfil this to us. 'Tis awful." This was the final entry ; the last string of the breaking heart seems here to have sounded ; and it is remarkable that this is a caution against "'evil-speaking," of which he had tasted often the wormwood and the gall even among religious people. The two following letters to a student who had the min- istry in view, are of deep interest. To Mr., now Rev. Dr. James W. Alexander, of Princeton, N. J. "B.u.TnioRE, December 8, 183-1. "My very dear Friend and Brother must not sup- pose for one moment that because he has not received a line from me since our interview in the summer, he had no longer any place in my remembrance. C), no ; ' God is my 248 REV. JOHN SL'MMERFIELD. witness, whom I seiv% with my spirit in the gospel of his Son, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers.' "Your first letter was received, though out of date. I'erhaps you have heard that about that time I made a tour llu-ough several of the New England states and the lower ]trovince of Canada, everywhere preaching the word. Im- mediately on my return to New York, I was appointed to 1 ravel through the state of Pennsylvania, and partially ihrough Jersey, which filled up every niche of my time till early in November, when I arrived here, where I am now IblfiUing the duties of my regular station ; and scarcely had I become settled, before your second favor was forwarded to me from Philadelphia, where it had been directed. I greatly rejoiced in the consolation which its contents atlorded me, and I do most earnestly covet another and another, 'that 1 may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me/ " While I sincerely mourn with you, that out of so large a number of the rising generation which your college brings together, so few, comparatively, are wise to understand the things which belong to their everlasting peace, yet I thank God and take courage that there is still 'a remnant accord- ing to the election of grace ;' and while I consider your own circumstances in your present situation, like those of the 'greatly beloved' JJaniel in the land of his captivity, and in the house of bondage, yet, like him also, I anticipate con- cerning my greatly beloved friend, that he shall 'stand in liis lot at the end of the days.' " I am not able to ascertain from the tenor of your letter, whether or not Satan is tempting you 'in the wilderness' with respect to your call to the ministry, or whether he has ' departed lor a season.' You express, however, in both your letters, the comfort you have received from the indi- vidual application which you have been enabled to make of CLOSING SCENES. 249 Isaiah G : G, 8. It is indeed a passage very full of comfort; and althouirh you confess that the latter part of the chapter is dark and appalling, yet it need present no such horror to you. While the qualifications for the ministry — circum- stances apart — must be essentially the same with those of the prophet, yet the tenor of the commission which is intrust- ed unto tis runs in a sweeter strain : ' God hath committed unto tis the ministry of reconciliation, to wit, that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them : now then we are ambassadors of Christ, as though God did beseech by us ; we pray men in Christ's stead, that they be reconciled unto God.' what strains are these : ""Tis mercy all, let earth adore, Let angel minds inquire no more.' Our great theme is ' Jesus Christ crucified ;' our great busi ness is to set him forth to men, 'evidently crucified before their eyes ;' our great glorying i.s, ' the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto us, and we unto the world.' Oh, it is his name which gilds the page of our commission ; it is his name which throws such a halo of glory around every part, as to absorb all within its beams ; it is his name which contains the charm to drive away the evil spirit out of man : " ' For devils fear and fly.' " ' Happy if with your latest breath, You may but gasp his name. Preach him to all, and cry in death, Behold, behold the Lamb!' " I doubt not, my dear friend, that rather than reliiso the offered privilege, you would sacrifice your all. I doubt not but you have laid at his feet your health, your property, your reputation, your life itself; and that you have deter- mined to be the servant, or rather, as you know the term is, the slave of Jesus Christ ; and that nothing now is wanting 11* 250 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIKLD. to your being unreservedly friven up to the service of your condescending Master, but the solemn imposition of hands, to which you look forward with so much solicitude. Con- tinue to live in the spirit of sacrifice ; those things which are gain to you, count loss for Christ. "May the Spirit of the Father and the Son lead you into all truth ; may ho be your sanctifier, as well as comforter ; may his unction ever abide upon you ; and when that sol- emn hour shall arrive, when the hands of the presbytery shall mark you out as the devoted victim of the daily cross, may his baptismal fire descend and take up his abode within you, purifying yoiu- heart to be the sanctuary of God, and a holy of holies for his abiding habitation. "My dear yoke-fellow, yours in Christ Jesus, "J. SUMMERFIELD." The remarks in the following letter upon extempore preaching " are very highly deserving of notice, as coming from such a source. All who ever heard this eminent pulpit orator will readily acknowledge that he ajiproached to per- iection, iu fluency, aptiie.^s, arrangement, and choice of dic- tion : that is, in what constitutes the highest praise of an extemporary speaker." To the same. " Balti.more, January 4, 1825. " My very dear Friend — I very sensibly feel alive to the confidence your letter reposes in me, and I feel thank- ful also that you let me so fully into your inside heart. I see its workings, and how tremblingly sensitive it is on the great subject to which all the energies of your mind are bending. Will it be any relief to my dear friend to assure him that these anxieties are the counterpart of my own, even unto this pi'esent hour ? Yes, for I will not scruple to disclose it, that although I am now in my seventh year of ministerial labor, the agony with which I entered upon it CLOSING SCENES. 251 is unabated. I still feel it a crucifixion, a martyrdom, a dying daily. " Human sciences may become familiar by incessant ap- plication, and practice may make perfect ; but the science of salvation passeth knoicledge : " "I cannot reach the mystery, The length, the breadth, the height.' Angels themselves arc represented as desiring to look into these things ; and yet, -with all the might of all their bend- ing minds united, they fail to comprehend them, and join us in the apostle's cry, ' the depth, the depth.' And it ever must be so ; so long as Ave retain the spirit of our commis- sion, our dependence upon the Holy Spirit will continue to be as sensibly felt in our last sermon as in our first, unless we have learned to preach without him ; and then we shall be sounding brass and tinkling cymbals — noisy instruments of no value. But let not my dear friend be therefore weary and faint in his mind ; be not unwilling to harbor the inces- sant cry within your breast, ' Who is sufficient for these things V and let the faith which moves the mountain trium- phantly rejoin, ' My sufficiency is of God ; I can do all things through Christ strengthening me.' Ever lean upon the promise of the gi'eat Head of the church, 'Lo, I am with you always.' And you also shall find, even if your record be that of the brightest luminary of the Christian church, ' No man stood by me, but all men forsook me ;' 'neverthe- less, the Lord stood with me.' ' Be not thou therefore moved at the afflictions of Christ, but endure hardness as a good soldier.' Remember the recompense of the reward " In reply to your remarks on extemporary discourses, 1 am glad to find your own soul in such perfect harmony with mine. You very much magnify the difficulty of it, but you have not yet been called to grapple with it ; and I am fully persuaded, that even in your infancy as a minister of Christ Jesus, you will strangle the serpent. Such is my decided 252 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. impression, i'rom the views you have aheady taken of the subject. And yet you cry, ' Hie labor, hoc opus est.' I do not know that any thing I could suggest would be applica- ble to your circumstances, because the mode of training for the ministry in our church difiers so totally from yours. " On admission into our church, each member is put into a class, so called, composed of a dozen persons, more or less. This class is under the care of a judicious man, well expe- rienced in the things of God ; we call him the class-leader. It is his business to meet his class collectively once every week, and speak to each member in relation to his Christian experience. This method gives a young man at the outset a facility in describing his own views and feelings without embarrassment, and he is improved by hearing his class- mates speak their experience in like manner. Thence he is appointed to be a leader himself, and this affords a facility of addressing a word of advice to others. Thence he is advanced to be a leader in a prayer-meeting, then an ex- horter ; and finally, upon full trial, he enters the minis- try with much less embarrassment than the man who is launched out from scenes in which every thing is prepared with labor, and made the subject of severe criticism. " In your case I should reconmiend the choice of a com- panion or two, with whom you could accustom yourself to open and amplify your thoughts on a portion of the word of God, in the way of lecture; choose a copious subject, and be not anxious to say all that might be said ; let your efforts be aimed at giving a strong outline, the filling up will be much more easily attained. Prepare a skeleton of your leading ideas, branching them off into their secondary rela- tions ; this you may have before you. Digest well the sub- ject, but be not careful to choose your icwds previous to your delivery. Follow out the idea in such language as may offer at the moment. Don't be discouraged if you iiill down a hundred times, for though you fall, you shall rise again ; / CLOSING- SCENES. 253 and cheer yourself with the prophet's challenge, 'Who hath despised the day of small things ?' "To be a correct extemporaneous preacher, you will need to write a good deal, in order to correct style and prune oft^the exuberance of language ; but I would not advise yon to write on the subject upon which you intend to preach. If you fill up on paper the matter of your text, you will con- tract a slavish habit of cumbering your mind with the words of your previous composition. Write on other subjects, and leave your words free and spontaneous for pulpit exercises. " If I were near you, I would show you my plan of skeletonizing. As I hope to have that pleasure in the spring, I will then let you into my plans, if you think them of any value. I never preach without having prepared an outline, but I never write a sermon out at length. " May the Lord direct you in all things. Write me again and again. "Yours, in love, "J. SUMMERFIELD." . To Mrs. Bethune, of New York. Written a few months after the death of her husband. " Baltimore, January 14, 1825. •■'My dear Mrs Bethune must not suppose for one mo- ment that my silence for so long a time has arisen from any abatement in my affections, or forgetfulness of her claims upon me. I thank God that I have often had good remem- brance of you in my prayers night and day, and often have commended you to Him who is the judge of the widow. But truly I have been a child of much affliction, and though my spirit has been willing, the feeble state of my health has retarded me. Not that the bare writing of a letter is in itself a task of so great magnitude under any circumstances, but the mind sympathizes so acutely with the ' Aveaker ves- sel,' as to render it at times almost impossible to surmount its sensibilities. Some time ago I wrote to Mr. H , and 254 REV. JOHN SUMMEIIFIELD. therein 1 made mention of you, with a desire to know Ihow you are, and where you are. Mr. H did kindly favor me with a few lines in reply, merely to acknowledge the re- ceipt of my letter, with a promise to write at full length in a few days. Tho&afeiv days are multiplied into many, and I have become the more anxious on his account also to know what is transpiring among you; for 'God is my record, how greatly I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ.' A lew days since, I dined in company with the Rev. Mr. M , a son of the doctor, and from him I was pleased to hear a favorable account of your beloved son George, and that he manifests much seriousness and devotedness to the sacred character to which he is preparing himself for future life. 0, is this the case ? I wish he would write to me. I keep up a sweet correspondence with Princeton college ; but strange to say, I have no correspondent in the Theological seminary, although I sometimes think that there are several youths there upon whom I have some claim to be remem- bered. " I trust that the mellowing hand of time has in some degree dried up the tears of your lonely widowhood. Whither he is gone ' you know, and the way you know.' He shall not return to you, but you shall go to him. Remember, the gulf is not between heaven and earth, but heaven and hell ; and now that he is absent from the body, he is present with the Lord — that Lord whom he loved when he saw him not, and whom he now sees face to face : '"VVlicrc all the ship's company meet, Who sailed with their Captain beneath.' And Oh, my God, shall / be there ? And shall you be there ? Yea, saith the Spirit. Yea, saith the Saviour ; for ' where I am, there shall my servants be.' Yea, saith the Father, ' It is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.' Let us comfort one another with these words, and then ' to die is gain.' , CLOSING- SCENES. 255 "Farewell, my dear madam. Give my love to our mutual friends ; and believe me, sincerely and afiectionately, yours in Christian love, "JOHN SUMMERFIELD.^' To Rev. Mr. T . '• Baltimore;, January 14, 1825. " My dear Friend — What an age is it since we last saw each other ; and which of us had the most distant idea, when we separated in Ireland, of our being so near together as the space between Pittsburg and Baltimore. " And now I think it is time I should say something about yourself. I have learned with regret, that success has not attended your removal to this country according to your expectation. You know how opposed I was to it. How- ever, this is poor comfort ; nevertheless, I rejoice to know that you have not fallen into the snare of too many of our poor Irish brethren, whom I have met with in Canada and else- where, who have in the same proportion as they lost ground on earth given up their hope of heaven, and departed from the living God. I trust that your mountain still stands strong, and that you yet knoiv that you have in heaven a better and an enduring substance. As for myself, with much weakness of the body with which I have had to contend, I am yet honored with a name among the living in Jerusalem. In this country my labors have been indeed more ahundant, and I have not been permitted to labor alone; having obtained help of God, I continue unto this day. My soul is in my work, and the zeal of the Lord's house is as a fire within my bones. The Lord has honored me- with many honors, and at the same time has taught me the art of hanging them all as trophies on the cross of Christ. My health is improving, and I pray that my days may yet be lengthened out, that I may bear witness of the great sal- vation to children yet unborn. Farewell, my dear friend. " Yours in Christian afiection, "J. SUMMERFIELD." 256 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. • To Mr. Francis Hall. " Baltimore, Jan. 21, 1825. " My dear Friend — I received your welcome favor, and also the fonner one, to which I should have replied, but was waiting the second as promised. Shall I say you have done iccU in that you have ministered to my necessities ? Nay, you have done more; the great apostle of the Gen- tiles could only acknowledge the ministration of his friends at Philippi ' 09ice and again,' but you have supplied my need more than this ; acknowledgment is all the return I can yet make : but Oh, ' it is more blessed to give than to receive.' I assure you I feel the humiliation connected with it, to which circumstances only could constrain my submis- sion ; but my God shall supply all your need out of hib riches in glory by Christ Jesus. " Yours affectionately, "JOHN SUMMERFIELD.^' The following letter Avas written to the widoM' of the late lamented George Warner, Esq., who died on the 1st ol January, 1825, known and beloved by thousands in the city and state of New York, of whose legislature he was for many years a member ; and who, for more than haiif a cen- tury, was eminently distinguished for his zealous and un- ceasing exertions in the cause of Christ. " B.U.TIMOBE, February I-'), 1825. "My dear Mrs. Warner must not suppose because 1 have not broken silence until now, that I had no sympathy with her under her late bereavement. Job's friends sat by his side upon tlie ground seven days and seven nights, and none spoke a word unto him ; for they saw that his grief was very great. But then surely there is a fit time when the ' mntister of peace ' should break the seal of his commission, and fulfil its mandate, ' Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.' It would indeed be impertinent in any other than the ' Prince of life,' who was about to give back CLOSING SCENES. 257 to the disconsolate widow her greatest earthly treasure, to say, ' Weep not.' Oh no, it is permitted to us to weep, and even to sorrow many days : hut then ' let us not sorrow as do others ; for if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so also them that sleep in Jesus shall God bring with him.' 'He is not dead then, but dcepeth f and Jesus will yet awake him put of sleep. He has long knoM"n that his Re- deemer liveth, and that in the latter day he should stand agaiir upon the eartli and see him eye to eye — Him whom he loved, though he saw him not, and in whom he long rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory. " Oh, how I should have desired to be with him when the shadows of time were flitting away and the glories of eternity bursting upon his open vision. how I should have longed to witness in him with what peace a Christian can die. I might have leai'ned a lesson which is now lost to me for ever. But yoio witnessed it ; nay, you were the witness of his life, which was a daily lesson ; the last chap- ter of which might be summed up in one line, ' I live : yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.' He felt that for him to live was Christ, but now he finds that ' to die is gain.' Happy soul, th^ days are ended. He has gained the prize before us ; but then, although we have it not as yet, ' there is laid up for us a crown of righteousness, which the Lord will give at that day.' And though we should long be kept out of the possession of it, rust will not corrupt it ; it is a crown of glory that fadeth not away Oh, that you and yours may gain the blissful shore as safely as he has done, without any shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience. And Oh, my God, remembei- me. When your feelings will permit, I should be glad to hear some particulars of the last moments of my much-beloved and never-to-be-forgotten friend. He was among the first of my friendships in New York, both as to my early acquaintance with him, and the value I placed upon his disinterested kindness to me. I am bereav- 258 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. c(l indeed. One after another is summoned away, and I am left to bear tales of woe. It sounds like a knell unto my- self, ' Be ye also ready; for at such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.' Farewell, my dear friend, and may He who knows how to comfort them that are in trouble, pour in the oil and the wine into your broken, bleed- ing heart. " Yours in the Lord, "J. SUMMERFIELD." In the month of March, 1625, Mr. Summerfi eld returned from Baltimore to New- York, in consequence of the alarm- ing indisposition of his father ; on his arrival at the latter city, he fully expected soon to be called upon to close the eyes of his beloved parent, at whose bedside he remained day after day, little calculating upon the mournful alternative wliich in the order of Providence was soon to take place. To Dr. Samuel Baker. " Bloomingdale, N. Y , March 3, 1825. " My dear Doctor — I arrived here last evening after dark, and found my dear father much better than I had ex- pected : I see no particular change, except that he has taken to his bed permanently, which seems the precursor of his approaching change. He told me that his feelings indicated, that he should be carried oil' suddenly ; he speaks of his ap- proaching change as though he had long accustomed his mind to be familiar with the scene, and taught himself to die daily ; we wept and rejoiced together. " I need not tell you how anxious I shall be till I hear from you, especially in reference to Mrs. D ; she is ever before my mind and upon my heart : as for tny&df, I am unu- sually well, with an appetite greatly improved by travelling. " Commending you all to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God, and praying that you may all be pre- served until my coming again, T conclude in haste but with much aflection. " Kind remembrance to all friends, love to Mrs. D , CLOSING SCENES. ' 259 Mrs. B , E , and all the children, from "William the first-fruits to little Blossom — not forgetting Alfred. " Yours most truly and sincerely, "JOHN SUMMERFIELD.^' At this time, while he was residing with his family in the country about four miles from New- York, a physician who called to pay him a friendly visit observing his delicate state of health, and believing the situation was too cold for him, ordered him to the city. He accordingly removed to the house of his kind friend Dr. Beekman, where he was con- fined to his room and bed about a month, after which he so far recovered as ta be able occasionally to ride or walk out. During this short interval of temporary convalescence, he was employed, with several of his brethren in the min- istry of different denominations, in the formation of The American Tract Society, of whose Publishing Committee he was a member. On Tuesday, May 10, he sat for several hours in the convention assembled for adopting its constitu- tion, and his last public act was an eloquent address at the organization of this flourishing society on the succeeding day ;* of which a brief sketch was reported in the Commer- cial Advertiser as follows : * The day after, Thursday, was the anniversary of the American Bible Society. Mr. Summerfield, with several distinguished strangers and members of the Society, was invited to dine with his esteemed and highly respected friend the E,ev. Dr. Milnor. This invitation occasioned the following note, in which there is a peculiar interest, when we reflect that it was the last he ever wrote ! On the Monday succeeding, he took to his bed. — J. B. To the Rev. Dr. Milaor. " May 12, 1825. "Rev. and dear Sir — In the anticipated pleasure which yom- invitation to dinner to-day inspired, 'memory lost her seat;' I forgot that my diet is simply bread and milk, and that I had not tasted ani- mal food of any kind for some months. "At your table I know I should see 'as it were a great sheet let down at the four corners, containing' — ' all that was pleasant for food;' but then no accompanying voice would address W2P, 'Arise, Pe- ter, kill and cat.' Unwilling therefore to appear singular, and fearmg 260 REV. JOHN SUMMERFFELD. "Hume predicted tlie downfall of Christianity in the nineteenth century ; nay, he declared that he already saw evidences that its ruin was approaching. It was not the evening twilight, however, but as it were the dawning light of Christianity which he saw ; for with the commencement of the nineteenth century the British and Foreign Bible Society, and the Religious Tract Society of London were brought forth. " Voltaire too, with impotent rage, assailed Christianity, and boasted that although it took twelve men to plant it, his single arm should root it out. In that day and country it was customary to sneer at Christians. And among the French nobility it was an old saying, " We'll leave the poor to the clergy." Bless God for the legacy. The poor we have always with us. " Tom Paine boasted that he had cut down every tree in paradise. There was one tree he did not cut down, and that was the tree of life. Would that he had reached Ibrth his hand and taken its fruit. " It is a wonderful dispensation of Providence, that Vol- taire's press — that very press that scattered his baneful tracts, so that, like the frogs in Egypt, they were found in their houses, their kneading-troughs, and their ovens — is now actively employed at Geneva in printing the holy Scriptures. In the very chamber too where Hume uttered his evil prophecy, the first Committee assembled for form- ing the Edinburgh Bible Society. One of the converts of Carlisle, who sent that wretch a donation in prison, as he said, to compliment him for having delivered him from his ' it might put you to inconvenience. I beg of you to excuse me till we can enjoy 'all things in common.' " I could not make my way into the City Hotel this morning, or I would have spoken to you. "With kind regard to Mrs. M , believe me very afleclion- ately yours, " J. SUMMERFJELD." "Thursday. 3 o'clock." CLOSINCr SCENES. 2G1 ridiculous fears of hell and his fantastical hopes of heaven, lately died in the most horrible agony, exclaiming, 'J am lost f " In all the anniversaries of benevolent institutions which I have attended on the continent of Europe, in Great Brit- ain, the Canadas, and the United States, I have never been conscious of such a spirit of Christian love inspiring the hearts of all, as on the present occasion. To this token of the divine approbation many have manifested their respect by their tears. For myself, again and again, I could not refrain from weeping. The room aflbrds a delightful spec- tacle. In the union of different sects of Christians, there is a semblance of that love which is so beautiful in the Chris- tian character. It is a love which we can even see as it were beaming from the face, looking out at the eyes, breath- ing from the lips, and distilling from the hands, thus creating an atmosphere which angels come down to inhale, and in which God himself delights to dwell ; for he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God and God in him." A fcAV days after this he went to pay his father, who had in some degree recovered from his attack, a visit prior to his return to Baltimore ; and little did he or his father think that this would be the last time they should see each other in the flesh I On this very day his physician was con- sulted with respect to his intended journey : he apprehended from appearances that amidst a complication of complaints, his most formidable disease was a dropsy ; this unexpected diagnosis was fully confirmed when next day he took to his bed — never again to rise from it. He soon after received the following letter of Christian counsel and consolation from his father, both lying on the bed of death. , " Blooming DALE, Friday evening, May 20, 1825. " My dear John — The mysterious providence of our being separated by severe afflir^tion, T sincerely feel ; and 2G2 REV. JOHN SIJMM E RFI E LD. were 1 nut iiupported by the assurance that all things shall work for our good, my spirit would fail ; but here I rest. "My dear John, you are surrounded by friendly physi- cians, who are deeply concerned for your bodily health, and probably so much so as to prohibit the access of God's peo- ple. But remember, my dear, they cannot stand for you before God ; therefore, any of his people you may wish for, send for them. My prayers and tears are continually sent to the mercy-seat on your behalf " I know not how this our affliction will end ; but it will be our highest wisdom to lay hold of God, as he is revealed in his word according to our wants, through our right in the atonement by Jesus Christ. " Your afUicted and afiectionate father, '• WILLIAM SUMMERFIELD.-' During this last sickness, such was the violence of the disease, and the consequent efiect of the anodynes which were necessarily administered, that he had but few lucid intervals. Notwithstanding this, his ideas were at times ex- ceedingly sublime, obscured as they frequently were by the inability to express fully what he meant to convey. The bent of his mind was very evident; the teading features of his remarks were, the glory of the cliurcJi, the lyrospcritu of Zion — themes upon which he had dwelt with delight while in health. " The glory of the church — the glory of the church of New York I" he exclaimed: "her walls shall be salvation and her gates praise !" He attempted to illustrate the union subsisting between Bible and Mis- sionaiy societies by the most chaste and beautiful meta- phors. One morning, while enduring great bodily pain, he exclaimed, "Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life." Throughout this severe illness, his mind generally appear- ed engaged about heavenly things : on a subsequent morning CLOSING SCENES. 2G3 he drew the bed-curtains aside, and said to a friend who stood by, " Show me the throne I where is the throne?" He would often speak on the fellowship of saints ; and sometimes he appeared engaged at a sacramental feast. In a conversation which took place about ten days after he was laid sick, he remarked to his kind friend Mrs. Doctor Beekman, that her " infirmity of body was not less than lu's own; but," continued he, "had you my mental suflerings to contend with, in addition to your weakness of body, perhaps you would hardly bear it." He expressed a great desire to be raised again, if it were the will of God : "Affliction," said he, "is not JO1J0US, but grievous; for example, even Christ himself prayed, ' H' it be possible, let this cup pass from me.' " After a pause, he emphatically said, " Ncvertlteless, not my will, hut thine he done''' A deep sense of his unworlhiness seemed to oppress his mind : " Having lived so long," he said, "and to so little purpose: Oh," he added, "if I might be raised again, how I could preach .' I could preach as I never preached before ; / have taken a look into eternity .'" Dur- ing this conversation the distressing hiccough, from which he had had little or no relief for some days and nights, was con- verted into a most affecting sob. On its being remarked to him that he suficred himself to be too much cast down by this deep sense of his own unworthiness, a friend spoke to him of the numbers that had been blessed under his minis- try, some of whom were themselves preaching the gospel, and others promising fair to commence the work in due time, besides many of whom we shall never hear : " Oh," he re- plied, "say nothing on that subject;" and then he sobbed out, " ^Yell, I have been a laborer for seven years." He paused for a few moments, and then with emphasis added, " Bless God, I have at least served an apprenticeship." After a little time taken to recover himself, he continued, " I know not how it will end with me in this sickness ; death is not so near to me as T could wish it to be. were this to be 2G4 REV. JOHN SITMMERFIELD. my last sickness :" raising his hand, he said, " I wish to have eternity brought before me, as near to my view as that," looking at his hand ; " this not being the case, I have thought it a presentiment that God will again raise me. 'Tis singular to remark," continued he, " that the last time I sat down to prepare a sermon, my mind was led to these words, ' Hav- ing a desire to depart and to be toith Christ, tvhich is far better ;' the sermon just filled up the last volume of my ser- mons, and after closing the book, I was led to make use of these words, ' My icork is done.'' Yet," he added, "if it were God's will, I should like to preach it." It is worthy of observation here, that during his severe illness of 1822, when in Philadelphia, and when no hope was entertained of his recovery, this text of Scripture was much upon his mind : " Having a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better ; nevertheless, to abide in the flesh is more needful for you." After dwelling upon this for some time, the latter part of the text, "neverthe- less, to abide," etc., was so fixed on his mind, that he said to a friend in a confident manner, " This sickness is not unto death." The same friend being with him a night during his last illness, Mr. Summerfield said, " Thomas, do you remember I told you in Philadelphia how much those words, ' Having a desire to depart,' etc., were impressed upon my iniiid ? You recollect with what confidence I in- formed you that I should recover, from the latter part of the text fastening- upon me in so peculiar a manner, 'never- theless, to abide in the flesh V Now," continued he, "it is reversed : the latter part I have nothing to do with ; the former is altogether on my mind." On one occasion, when a cup was handed to him to take a drink, he looked upon his friends present, many of whom sur- rounded his bed, and smiling upon them severally, he said, " On you, on me, on all be given The bread of life, which comes frctm heaven." CLOSING SCENES. 2G5 About ten days before his death, he was visited by his much esteemed friend Bishop Soule. The interview was a most affecting one. He had just obtained reUef from very violent sufiering. When the bishop entered the room he fixed his eyes upon him. The bishop took him by the hand. For a few seconds they silently gazed upon each other, when the bishop said, " I trust, John, all is j^cace." Being mucli overcome, and after giving vent to his feelings, the suffering saint replied, " / have a hojie of tvhich I trust I 7ieed not he ashamed.''' The bishop put up a most fervent petition, to which Mr. Summerfield responded in a deeply devout manner. When the prayer was concluded, he said, "Bless the Lord, all within me s/iouts his praise ;" he added, "great is the weakness of ray body." The bishop observed, "Well, my dear brother, you have been doing the will of the Lord, now you are suffering ; so that in doing and suffering you are serving the Lord." To which he replied, "I bless God. The will of the Lord be done." Then taking a valedictory salutation, he said, " Bishop, farewell ; if I do not meet you again on earth, meet me in heaven." At another time he said, " I doubt not but many will expect a dying testimony, but I know not how this may be with me. I w^ould, however, give the answer of Whitefield to a female friend. When she asked him what his dying testimony would be, Whitefield replied, that he had preached Christ, a living testimony." A few days before he breathed his last he had been tak- ing a little porter and water, when he requested that no anodyne might be administered whenever it should appear that the time of his dissolution was approaching. " Admin- ister nothing," said he, " that will create a stupor, not even so much as a little porter and water, as I wish to be per- fectly collected, so that I may have an unclouded view." " Oh," said he, "I fear not so much the consequences of death ; but nature's last struggle — flesh shrinks when we ?nnimPi-ncM. 12 266 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. contemplate tJiat : when Ihe spirit is separated from the body, it stands, it stands, alter the dislodgement, trembling niul quivering. Oh, it is tliat — it is that co?ivnhive struggle which harasses the mind." On being told there would be grace sufficient, he replied, "AYell — yes — well — all is well.'' After expressing his obligations in the most afTcctionate manner to all his friends, many of whom he named and remarked on something peculiar in each of them, he spoke of one for whom he felt more than common interest. " Oh," said he, " how much that dear friend has been the subject of my prayers. With respect to the things of this life, my God will reward him. I believe he will never lack in the store nor in the basket. I trust he will meet me in glory : this is the subject of my prayers for him." He then said to his sister Blackstock, " Ellen, my dear, we have been much separated ; we have not seen much of each other ; my time has been greatly occupied without my being able to enjoy much of your society : but absence has never banished you from my mind. God is my record that you are daily borne in the arms of faith to the footstool of his mercy. I plead there for each one of you by name.'" Within the last three days of his life, he appeared to be no stranger to approaching dissolution. On the 11th of June, he requested that his sister would have mourning prepared. The day before he died, he wished to change his position in bed ; he pointed towards the bedside, and spoke of the grave. He was at the same time exceedingly rest- less, and said, "I wish for a change." When asked what he meant, he replied, "I want a change, a change oi form, a change of every thing.''' Among his last articulate ex- pressions, was an attempt to quote a passage of scripture, which he left unfinished. It was delivered with much hesitancy. "Al — though — sin — has — entered — " Shortly afterwards he called his brother to the bedside, took his hand, and requested that he would stay by him. CLOSING- SCENES. 267 About five o'clock on the evening preceding his death, he called out in a surprisingly audible voice for his sis- ters, each by name : "Anne;" being told that she was not there, he called, "Amelia;" she vi^as also absent, attend- ing her afflicted father. He then called, "Ellen," his eldest sister, who was present. She took him by the hand, and reminded him of the necessary absence of his sisters. He replied, "Well — tell Amelia — tell A?i>ie — tell the?n — all is PERFECTION." In the course of the evening, his sister, thinking that he was much more comfortable than he had been for a few days past — httle did she think he was so near his end — em- braced the opportunity of visiting her anxious parent, who was confined to his bed in the country. She returned about ten o'clock in the evening, with a message from him to his darling son. She said, "John, my dear, your father sends his love to you : he desired me to say that you are the sub- ject of his prayers night and day" — to which he made no reply ; his eyes appeared fixed, but there was no apprehen- sion of his immediate death. She added, " John, my love, is that right ?" He answered, " Certainly, Oh, certainhj.'' Observing that his cough was very troublesome, she said, "My dear John, you must have taken cold from the windows being open." He said, "Very possible." She then gave him a drink, which was his laiit, as she was about to retire to rest for a few hours. She gave him a kiss, and said, "Good-night;" to which he replied, " Good-night." These were his last tcorcls. From this time until about four o'clock in tlie morning, he appeared in a comfortable sleep, when a change was first discovered to have taken place. His friends were then col- lected, and remained around his bed until, without a groan, or one convulsive struggle, his spirit departed at twelve min- utes past eleven in the forenoon of the 13th of June, 1825. A friend immediately proceeded to Bloomingdale to 268 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. commuuicate the niounilul iulelligeiicc to his aflhcted par- ent. Oil the gentleman's entering his chamber, Mr. Sura- merfield raised his head from his pillow, and was at once convinced of the cause of the visit : ' So, Mr. S , I per- ceive you arc the harbinger of melancholy tidings to me — my dear John is no more." After a solemn pause, he raised his eyes heavenward, and with pious resignation exclaimed, " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away," deeply ag- itated ; then added, " Blessed be the name of the Lord." Thus lived, and thus died John Summerfield — a man whose name is not only written " in the Lamb's book of life," and his piety recorded on high, but one, the fragrant memorial of whose virtues deserves to be cherished by the church below, as exhibiting in a high degree the spirit which characterized his evangelical namesake mentioned in the gospel, even "that other disciple whom Jesus loved." The last entry in his father's journal is as follows : "My dear John departed this life on Monday, the 13th of June, and was interred the next day. From tlie ac- counts I have received, I have every reason to thank God for his safe arrival in heaven, where I hope to meet him soon, and all my dear children that are left behind. I thank God for giving me such a son ; may his death speak louder than all his preaching. Lord, prepare me to follow him to thy kingdom." The sensation which the news of this event produced ■wherever the deceased preacher had been known, was deep and general, and testimonies of his piety, his eloquence, and the attractiveness of his entire character, immediately ap- peared in many of the newspapers ol' the United States. To transcribe these spontaneous efilisions of respect — in many instances the more valuable as coming from indi- viduals not to be supposed to have any favorable predilec- tions towards the body to which Mr. Summerfield belong- CLOSING- SCENES. 269 ed — would be a jileasing task ; but that which constitutes a chief excellency of the documents in question, forms at the same time one main objection to their repetition in this place. They are ahnost uniformly couched in language at once laudatory to the memory of the deceased and honorable to the feeling of the writers, while the choicer epithets and illustrations which they contain are not unfrequently impli- cated with obituary notices of considerable length. Collec- tively, therefore, they would occupy more space and present less variety than niight be deemed compatible with the de- sign of the present work. On Tuesday, the 14th of June, the funeral took place. The procession being formed, moved from Dr. Beekman's house in Cortlandt-street at a quarter past four o'clock in the afternoon, in the order following : Members of the Young Men's Missionary Society, of which Mr. Summer- field was president ; ministers of various denominations, six of whom were pall-bearers ; the mourners, and a long train of the friends of the deceased. The streets through which the procession passed were greatly crowded : a degree of seriousness marked every countenance ; indeed the public sympathy could hardly have manifested itself more than, it did on this occasion. The loss of a great and good man appeared to be sensibly felt by all classes of the community. Arriving at John-street, .the body was taken into the Methodist church, which was tilled to overflowing ; an elo quent and impressive discourse was delivered by the Rev. T. Birch, and the service concluded by a solemn and aflect- ing prayer from the Rev. Henry Chase. The procession was then again formed and proceeded to the steamboat ferry, where it crossed to Brooklyn. Here the body was again taken into the Sands-street Methodist church, when the Rev. Dr. Nathan Bangs read the fifteenth chapter' of the first of Corinthians, and concluded by reading the burial-ser- vice, after which the body was silently committed to the 270 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. grave. His voice while living had often been heard in this temple, and there "his body, precions even in death, sleeps near the spot w^here the doctrines of the Christian denomina- tion to which he was attached were first preached in Amer- ica. There it will await that morning of which he loved when living to speak, and of which he sometimes spoke in entrancing language — the morning of the resurrection. The tombstone over the grave of^ Summerfield bears the following inscription, written by the Rev. Joshua N. Dan- forth, of the Presbyterian church : Qatveh to tl)c illemorj) THE REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, A.M. JUT. i7. A PREACHER OF THE METHODIST CONNECTION, BOKN IN ENGLAND— BORN AGAIN IN IRELAND; BY THE FIRST A CHILD OF GENIUS, BY THE SECOND A CHILD OF GOD; CALLED TO PREACH THE GOSPEL AT THE AGE OF NINETEEV. IN IRELAND, ENGLAND, AND AMERICA, HIMSELF THE SPIRITUAL FATHER OF A NUMEROUS AND HAPPY FAMILY. AT THIS TOMB GENIUS, ELOQUENCE. AND RELIGION, MINGLE THEIR TEARS. HOLY IN LIFE, ARDENT IN LOVE. AND INCESSANT IN LABOR, HE WAS TO THE CHURCH A PATTERN, TO SINFUL MEN AN ANGEL OF MERCY ; TO THE WORLD A BLESSING. IN HIM WERE RARELY COMBINED GENTLENESS AND ENERGY OF CHARACTER: BY THE ONE ATTRACTING UNIVERSAL LOVE, BY THE OTHER D I F F U .S 1 N G HAPPINESS AROUND HIM. CLOSING iSCEiNEb. 271 SINGULAR SWEETNESS AND SIMPLICITY OF MANNERS, INIMITABLE ELOQUENCE IN TUE PfLPlT, NATURAL, GRACEFUL, AND FERVENT, RENDERED II I M TUE CHARM OF THE SOCIAL CIRCLE, AND THE IDOL OF THK POPULAR ASSEMBLY. UPON THE LIPS THAT MOULDER BENEATH THIS BIARBLE. THOUSANDS HUNG IN SILENT WONDEK.: HIS E L E 31 E N T WAS NOT TUE BREATH OF FAME, BUT THE COMMUNION AND FAVOR OF GOD. HE CLOSED A SCENE OF PATIENT SUFFERINGj AND SLEPT IN JESUS, IN THE CITY OP NEW YORK, ON THE 13TH DAY OF JUNE, 1825. BY FAITH HE LIVED ON EARTH; IN HOPE HE DIED ; BY LOVE HE LIVES IN HEAVEN. The new church in Sands-street extends over his re- mains and those of his revered father. They now lie im- mediately under the pulpit. Besides the above memorial, another monument has been dedicated to the memory of the lamented Summer- field. This is a beautiful cenotaph which the Young Men's Missionary Society of the Methodist church erected to com- memorate the virtues of their late president and their love for him. It was placed in the front of the church in John- street, New York, near the western corner ; but on rebuild- ing the edifice, the trustees evinced their aflbctionate regard to his memory by placing it on the wall within the church. The tablet is of black marble, finely polished, in the shape uf a cone. Near the base of this an urn is atlixed, standing upon a pedestal, \\'ith a few volumes of books on either side. From one side of the urn a mantle hangs down in graceful folds, and at the right of it is a scroll half unrolled. These are elegantly sculptured from a block of very fine and beau- tiful white marble. Upon the tablet in the centre the fol- lowing tribute, from the pen of bishop Soule, is inscribed ; 272 REV. JOHN SUMMERFJELD. SACRED ®o tl)c IHcmorii of tl)c REV. JOHN SUMMEEFIELD, A.M. "A BURNING AND A SHINING LIGHT." UK COMMENCED HIS MINISTERIAL LABORS IN THE CONNECTION OF THE WES LEY AN METHODISTS IN I U ELAND: BUT EMPLOYED THE LAST FOUR. YEARS OF HIS LIFE IN THE ITINERANT MINISTRY OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES. HIS MIND WAS STORED WITH THE TREASURES OF SCIENCE. FROM A CHILD HE KNEW THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. MEEKNESS AND HUMILITY, UNITED WITH EXTRAORDINARY INTELLECTUAL POWERS, EXHIBITED IN HIS CH.\RACTER A MODEL OF CHRISTIAN AND MINISTERIAL EXCELLENCE. HIS PERCEPTION OF TRUTH WAS CLEAR AND COMPREHENSIVE; HIS LANGUAGE PURE, AND HIS ACTION CHASTE AND SIMPLE. THE LEARNED AND THE ILLITERATE ATTENDED HIS MINISTRY W I T H ADMIRATION, AND FELT THAT HIS PREACHING WAS IN THE DEMONSTRATION OF THE SPIRIT AND OF POWER. DISTINGUISHED BY THE PATIENCE OF HOPE, AND THE LABOR OF LOVE, HE FINISHED HIS COURSE IN PEACE AND TRIUMPH. BORN IN PRESTON, ENGLAND, JAN. 31st, 1798. DIED IN THIS CITY, JUNE 1.3th, 1835 Beneatli the tablet, upon the base of the black marble groundwork, is the following inscription : "This Monument was erected by the 'Young Men's Missionary Society,' of which the deceased was President, with sincere prayer that the ardor of his zeal in the cause of missions may live in liis succes- sors, wlien this mar])le .shall moulder into dust." CONOLUJjlNa REMARKS. 273 CHAPTER XVIII. GENERAL COXCLUDIXG OBSERVATIONS. The foregoing narrative will, it may be presumed, have little ambiguity as to Mr. Summerfield's character and pro- ceedings. Open, indeed, and transparent as Merc all his actions, there are no difficulties to be reconciled, no doubts to be cleared away ; and happily it may with equal truth be added, that so obviously and continually was the spiritual purity of his motives reflected in his private as well as public life, that candor does not impose on his biographer the un- gracious task of seeking, by extenuation or apology, to color a single particular of his ministerial career. * * * The susceptible subject of these memoirs undoubtedly received in Ireland that clear sense of pardon, justification, and acceptance with God, to which he ever afterwards referred as his spiritual birth ; and yet, in the further and future work of sanctification,' the light of spiritual illumina- tion in him, whatever may have been the case in others, did not uninterruptedly shine "brighter and brighter luito the perfect day ;" but clouds and darkness frequently intercepted the rays of that Sun of righteousness which had so evidently arisen on his soul. Indeed, the Lord seems to have led his servant, not with the shadow by day and the glory by night, of the pillar of cloud and fire, but alternately presenting to him the light of the flame that cheered the Israelites on the verge of the Red sea, and the darkness behind that frowned upon the Egyptians their pursuers. But God, who is " love," was equally present in the splendor and the terror to him — in the hidings as in the revealings of his face — and by that mysterious dispensation, as the best mode of guidance, led him, we cannot doubt, through the sea and the wilderness, over Jordan to Canaan and Jerusalem which is above. Perhaps the movement least explicitly accounted for, 12* 274 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. especially as tb the suddenness of it, may be Mr. Summer- field's emigration from Ireland to America. I have reserved for this place, in preference to interrupting the narrative elsewhere, the introduction of a passage from his diary writ- ten at Marseilles, in February, 1823. After some solemn reflections upon his removal irom Europe and settlement in the " new world," which he observes will not only operate upon the whole of his future existence in time, but with respect to himself, run into eternity, he proceeds : " Circumstances of various kinds, and a strange coinci- dence of events which could only be resolved into the lead- ings of a providential hand, fully confirmed in my dear and honored father, a conviction he had long experienced, that America was henceforward to become our home. My eldest sister's having married and removed to that country several years before, had alw^ays since that time been regarded by him as an earnest, or rather a pledge, that the removal of the whole family would succeed sooner or later. "Having in the autumn of 1820 finished his engage- ment as the manager of a certain establishment in the city of Cork, and finding no opening into which he might enter in that city, and thereby provide things honest in the sight of all men, although he sought for it with all diligence, con- nected with incessant prayer by night and day, he paused, and began to consider this as the time to which he had so long looked forward. Having exercised the strictest economy over all his domestic concerns since his engagement in that city, and thereby recruited his impoverished circumstances, he now found that he was possessed of the means, and but barely tJte tneans, of transporting us to the United States ; and fearing that these means would so consume away by much procrastmation, as to render it impracticable perhaps during the remainder of his life, he immediately concluded, after agonizitig ^mycr to the Father of lights to direct him, to prepare to quit his native land. A vessel having put into OONCLUDINU REMARKS. 275 the port of Cork by stress of weather, presented an opportu- nity which seldom occurs there. As the place of her des- tination was the residence of mybrotlier and sister in Amer- ica, we regarded it as the last preparatory step by which the kind providence of God had led us on. Preliminaries ad- justed, we bade adieu to Ireland and to Europe on the 12th of December, 1820, and arrived in New York the 17th of March following, having first sailed to Portugal to take in cargo. Our numbers were, two sons, two daughters, my dear and Ofily parent, and a servant-maid. "As regards myself, independent of a father's commands which were laid upon me, I too regarded the connection of preceding events which transpired in my ministerial labors, as no other than the leadings of the same God, who '' ' Plants his footsteps in the sea. And rides upon the storm.' " My public duties in Ireland for the two years previous had greatly impaired, if not totally ruined my health — my journal for that period will bear ample testimony thereto ; this, added to the general humidity of the country, rendered some change necessary if my life was to be preserved. For this purpose among others, 1 visited England in May, 1820, and remained there till after the Liverpool conference in tlie July and August following. My hope was, that through the interference of many of the English preachers with whom in the interval I had become acquainted, I might be removetl from Ireland to the air of my own country, and that the change would have a favorable efiect upon my constitution ; as also that my labors would be greatly reduced — a measure which my situation at the time imperiously demanded. But notwithstanding the eflbrts which were made, and th* peti- tion of the Manchester society for me to be sent to them, the Irish representative, brother Tobias, refused to give con- sent to my removal, without which consent the British con- ference could do nothing. At the same time knowing how 276 REV. JOHN SUMMEilFlELD. tender and afiecting were the ties by which 1 was bound to the scene of my past labors, and my past afflictions too, he Ikiled not to use every persuasion with n:ie. In this he suc- ceeded too well ; I gave up my intention and returned to Ireland, to the city of Cork, where the coulbrence of the Irish brethren had stationed me at their preceding session during my absence in England." It is a striking proof of Summerfield's sincere devotion to God and his cause, that in obedience to his father's "com- mands," as appears above, he cheerfully accompanied his parent to America, leaving all his prospects in Ireland and England behind, though he had arrived at perilous popular- ity in the former, and was most temptingly pressed to settle in the latter country — the field in which ambition, in the shape of Methodist preaching, would choose above all the world besides, to shine in its own vain glory ; nay, in which the honest and conscientious man of gifts and graces might justifiably deem that he would be the most usefully em- ployed. This then was forsaking all, denying himself, and taking up his cross to ibllow Christ. * * * Few ministers in America ever attained a higher degree of popularity than John Summerfield, and no man ever courted it less. It commenced with his first sermon, and continued to the end of his short life. It would be worse than affectation to insinuate that he was insensible to, or even that he luidervalued the homage paid to his talents ; but really, when we reflect upon his youth, it seems little less than a miracle that he should have been so wholly pre- served from the pernicious influence of popular praise. Mod- esty and humility were prominent traits in his character. This^was universally admitted. The Rev. Dr. Nevins of the Presbyterian church, Baltimore, says in a letter, "I have been astonished, that in all my intercourse with Summer- held, I never heard any thing from him, even by accident, that savored of vanity. He was literally clothed with hu- CONCLUDING- REMARKS. 277 mility ; nor was the garment scanty. What popular preacher but he ever passed before the world without being at least accused of aflectation ? That he was, I never heard." He liked to pix'ach in a church where there was a vestry, into which he could retire immediately after service ; where that was not the case, as often happens in America, he has sometimes felt it severely, and been so dissatisfied Avith hitn self as to wish that there was a trap-door in the pulpit through which he might escape. If he attended the preach- ing of others, he preferred an obscure place among the con- gregation, as he did not like to attract observation. It was a pleasing trait in his character, that he would willingly listen to any advice that might be given by a friend, and some would undertake to find fault with little things : for instance, when he arrived in America, he -svore a gold seal to his watch, which he soon found was an eyesore to some ; he therefore promptly laid it aside, and the like of a plaid cloak, as he would not, he said, offend one of the weakest of his brethren. The preparation which he generally made for the pulpit was as follows : he would draw a rough outline of a sermon on a sheet or half-sheet of paper ; and after preaching it. determine whether or not it was worthy of being transcribed into his book of ser7)ioJis ; if it satisfied him, he would enter it into his book the next day. Many persons would doubt- less expect to meet in a work of this nature with some spe- cimens of those discourses which produced such wonderful effects ; nor should they have been disappointed, had it ap- peared that the present writer, by copying or filling up one or more of the s/cetches left by the preacher, could have done any thing like justice to that extraordinary felicity with which his own vivd voce eloquence filled up the prescribed outline. Such an attempt, however, would only exhibit a gratuitous failure ; indeed to a certain extent, the utmost fidelity of the 2)c/i even of the preacher lumself, would have 278 REV. JOHN SUMMEKFlELLi. conveyed as inadequate an idea of the fascinations of his tongue and the overflowings of his heart, as an indiflerent reporter might happen to do of either. He has indeed left one pubhshed discourse, which as little invalidates the latter, as I fear the present work may the former clause of the fol- lowing remark : " I almost compassionate the biographer of Summeriield, however great his graphic talents may be," says Dr. Nevins, " for I anticipate that the best written me- moir of him will be to the living, speaking, and acting Sum- merfield, very much what his best printed discourse was to the unwritten eloquence that he used to pour forth from his heart in his most ordinary sermons ; for the eloquence of our friend was preeminently that of the heart. It was the ora- tory of nature ; and I have often remarked that in any age, in any country, in any language, and under all circumstances, he would have been the same magic master of the human heart that we felt him to be." Let it not however be hence inferred by any who never heard him preach, that the sermons which delighted and edified such unprecedentedly large congregations, were defi- cient in theological excellency : quite the reverse. I have before me one of the precious volumes of manuscript sermons above alluded to : it is a beautiful autograph of his piety and indu.stry, and contains many of those happy combina- tions of thought, those luminous expositions of the doctrines of the gospel, and those judicious illustrations of the faith and practice of Christianity, which formed the substrata of his eloquent discourses. But, however crowded and intelli- gible the contractions in the writing, it will readily be con- ceived that sketches is a proper epithet to designate a collec- tion of the outlines of one hundred and seventy-six sermons, comprised in seventy-four post octavo pages. To the question which may naturally occur here — What then were the predominating qualities of Mr. Summerfield's mind ? — the answer ought unequivocally to be, good sense CONCLUDING- REMARKS. 279 and GOOD taste : qualities most rarely found in combination with fervency of feeling and a spontaneous eloquence. To say that he was not a man of genius, in the true import of the term, would be to deny the whole testimony of his lil'e ; while to assert that that genius Avas of the very highest order, would be to substitute exaggeration for fact. I have before me the following sentence in the handwriting of Mr. Mont- gomery : " Summerfield," says the poet, " had intense animal feeling, and much of morbid imagination ; but of poetic feel- ing and poetic imagination, very little ; at least, there is very little trace of either in any thing that he has left, be- yond a few vivid but momentary flashes in his sermons." His personal appearance,* although not particularly strik- ing on ordinary occasions, was allowed by universal consent to be extremely fascinating in the pulpit. His countenance, when in tolerable health, was one of the most lovely descrip- tion, yet had it at the same time an expression of calmness and solemnity not common with one so young. The Rev. J. N. Danforth, in a generous, judicious, and eloquent obitu- * The Rev. Dr. Elliott says of his first seeing Mr. Summerfield, "On an afternoon in 1S24, when a member of the general conference sitting in the Eutaw church, we saw a very youthful man coming into the church, who took his seat near the door. Involuntarily our atten- tion became fixed on the youth-, we could not tell what so secured our regard. When he smiled, there was something in that which seemed to be the attractive point; but then he was always in a smile, or in good-humor. Again, his very youthful appearance came forward for the prize of competition with the other characters of the boy, for we called him a boy in our musings. And this, after all, was not the thing. Then we thought he must be so pious, for he was just like an angel who had selected the choicest frame for his temporary abode. Still, it was not just his piety that swayed so completely our mmd. Well, we could not tell what it was which commanded our regard. We turned to the president, but almost immediately our eyes were fixed on the stranger whose atti'actions engrossed our thoughts. While engaged in this musing, brother W inquired, 'Have you seen Sum- merfield?' The answer was, 'No.' 'Well there he is sitting yonder, near the door ' " 280 REV. JUHN SUMMERFIELD. ary notice of liis friend, observes, "But he had his inspira- tion ; and then it [his discourse] was not splendid, nor mag- nificent, nor overpowering, but simple, pure, gentle, and heavenly, even to a degree of sublimity, and certainly to such a degree as I believe is rarely connected with mortality. His eye, which like his countenance, possessed, on your near approach to him for the first time, nothing positively strik- ing, assumed a dark hue in the pulpit ; and as to the rest of his face, if you wished to see meekness itself embodied in human form, there it was in Sammerfleld as he stood in the sacred desk, the messenger of the Lamb of God — in his face and attitude and manner — in every smile of rapture that ligbted up, and every shade of melancholy that passed across his features. He never used notes in the desk, and even smiled sometimes at the practice. He was, however, systematic, and was continually interweaving Scripture, in the most natural and graceful maimer, with the thread of his discourse. His mind seemed to be stored, his very spirit to be imbued with the word of God. It dwelt richly in him in all wisdom and spiritual understanding. He preached from fifty minutes to an hour — too long for his feeble and wasting frame." It has frequently been said that no person ever did so much in the United States towards destroying s.cctarian bigotry as Mr. Summerfield. Every sincere preacher of the gospel was to him a brother ; and those of almost every denomination invited him in turn to preach for them. Im- mediately on his arrival on one occasion at one of the princi- pal cities, he was waited upon by a number of gentlemen of the Protestant Episcopal church, to express a desire that he should preach in one of their churches. With this request he stated his willingness to comply, provided the consent of their bishop could be obtained. The bishop was consulted, but declined acquiescing, observing that he greatly regarded Mr. Summerfield as a man, and esteemed him as a minister. CONCLULilNG- REMARKS. 2bl but that the ca)ion of the church prevented his consent, however much he might himself be pleased to hear the young man preach. Being informed of this, Mr. Summer- field pleasantly replied, "AYcll, it matters not; but I have always thought it was usual to spike the cannon in times of peace." The following letter from the Rev. Dr. Abercrombie, an eminent minister of the Protestant Episcopal church, to Mr. Summerfield, is equally honorable to the writer and the receiver. "Philadelphia, June 1, 1822. "Rev. and dear Sir — The very powerful impression which the exercise of your ministry in this city has made upon the hearts of many of your hearers, induces me thus to express a most ardent wish on their behalf, that you would &oon indulge us wdth another visit, that you may confirm and render indelible that happy efiect. Much oi the good seed has fallen among tkor)i$, and will, I lear, be- come choked and unfruitful, unless invigorated and nour- ished by your refreshing agency. Your exertions among us, sir, have been blessed with great success in awakening many sleeping, and alarming many careless professors of Christianity; and as a brother-laborer, though a very feeble one, in the vineyard of our heavenly Master, I can no longer resist addressing to you the solicitation given to St. Paul, 'Come over into Macedonia and help us.' Your 'heart's de- sire and prayer to God for sinners is, that they may be saved;' and as the talents intrusted to you have been happily im- proved among us, I trust that you will be permitted by di- vine Providence to establish the good work which you luive begun, and carry it on to perfection. Your sincerity and zeal as a Christian, and your urbanity as a gentleman, will, I am confident, induce you to pardon this intrusion upon your time and attention. As it is generally known I enjoy the pleasure of being acquainted with you, I am frequently 282 EEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. asked, When will Mr. Summerfield favor us witli another visit ? How, my good sir, shall I answer this question ? "With unfeigned respect and esteem, I am. Rev. and dear sir, your affectionate friend and brother in Christ, "JAMES ABEE.CR011BIE." It may not be improper here to introduce an anecdote which has frequently been repeated from versions more or less correct. It is substantially as follows : While Mr. Sum- merfield was lying in bed, during one of his illnesses, he was visited by two highly respectable clergymen, one of whom, commiserating his early subjection to such extreme suflering in consequence of his ministerial labors, inquired, " How old are you?" To the astonishment of the divine, the suffering saint replied, "I was born at Preston in England, in 1798, and horn again at Dublin in Ireland, in 1817." The visitor expressed at once his surprise and curiosity at what to him was so strange a declaration. Mr. Summerfield, no less ex- cited, with great propriety exclaimed in the language of Jesus to Nicodemus, " Art thou a master in Israel, and knowest not these things?" and then related to them the history of his own conversion. The sequel is gratifpng. The reverend gentleman, after departing, inquired of his clerical companion whether or not he knew any thing about this strange doctrine, and finding that he too was a subject of the same happy change, set himself to obtain the like blessing with a sincerity and success of which his subse- quent ministrations bore satisfactory testimony. Summerfield was commendably particular with regard to his person ; plain, but remarkably neat : indeed, careless- ness in any respect did not belong to him ; he equally dis- liked slovenliness and finery in a minister of the gospel, justly holding that every thing ought to correspond with the dignity and importance of his office. In private life he was as much beloved as he was ad- mired in his public character. "There was," says a minis- CONCLUDING REMARKS. 283 teiial friend, "something vnicarthly about the man; and yet he Avas a man, and as ailkble and condescending as if, to use his own expression, he was 'the servant of all.' Any one who was disposed to complain of his being too :nuch the subject of conversation — justly or unjustly — or of his being a youth unworthy of such premature celebrity, forgot it all after sitting down a few minutes in his company." There was something so endearing and truly aliectionate in his manners, that it was no wonder his company was courted by all ranks. In conversation he was chaste, lively, and sometimes facetious ; prolific of anecdotes and remarks of a religious tendency. He had, ui astonishing perfection, the faculty of remembering names : it mattered not how large a family he might visit ; should there be a dozen children, he would in- quire the names of each, and would ever afterwards remem- ber them by name, even to the servants. Mr. Summerfield, as before noticed, was fond of preach- ing to children, and in these services his manner was pe- culiarly engaging. It was a delightful scene to w'itness his appearance on these occasions — himself like a boy among his juniors, leaning gracefully over the pulpit, in a manner best comporting with the familiar and affectionate style of his address — his juvenile auditory occupying the body of the church, and listening with the most steady attention to their ingenuous teacher. Occasionally he put questions to them, and would encourage oral answers, and tell them what his next subject would be, that they might be prepared to reply to his interrogatories. His scope and illustrations were some- times so happily appropriate, that the children would remem- ber nearly a whole sermon. After enforcing most sweetly on one occasion the text, "They that seek me early shall find me," he said, "Are there any of my dear little hearers who Avill pledge themselves to meet me to-morrow morning at the throne of grace?" Several immediately replied, "/ 284 REV. JOHN SLIMMERFIELI). ivill." He endeavored to excite a missionary spirit in the children, and introduced among them the "'Tis But" box, that they might save a few cents for so good a cause. In 1822 he wrote an ingenious juvenile speech, which was de- livered by an interesting boy eleven years of age, proposing a missionary resolution which Mr. Snmmerfield himself sec- onded ; the little fellow presenting at the same time, as the representative of the other children, the sum of four hundred and ten dollars. In his love of children he resembled Mr. Wesley. It was pleasing, on some occasions, to see the little ones crowd about the altar before leaving the church, each anxious to be noticed by him. He would sometimes from the pulpit invite them to call upon him at his lodgings, to which they repaired in groups, when he would leave his study and spend some time familiarly with them. Children from all parts of the city would bring their little hymn-books for him to insert their names, which he usually did, accompanied with some suitable remark or motto. Among the numerous instances of his attention to the lambs of Christ's flock, occurs the following: A boy about eleven years of age, after one of the sermons to children, remaiued till the congregation had nearly dispersed, when he attracted Mr. Summerfield's no- tice. Stepping forward, he said, "My little boy, do you want any thing with me?" He appeared overcome with his feelings, and could only say, " Mr. Summerficld." " Well, my love, what do you want with Mr. Summerficld ?" The boy, encouraged, said he wished Mr. Summerfield would call at his mother's. On inquiring where his mother lived, the name of the street and the number of the house were given. "What is your name?" "John Brown," replied the boy. "Well, John Brown, to-morrow at eleven o'clock I shall pay you a visit." Accordingly, at the time appointed, Mr. Sum- merfield waited upon him ; he found John busily employed sweeping, fixing the fire, and preparing for his visitor. CONCLUDlNd REMARKS. 285 "Well, John, here I am, according to my appointment." John requested him to take a seat until he had found his mother. She was a pious woman, and said that her son had heard him preach whenever he had addressed the chil- dren, and that his mind had been much impressed in- con- sequence. Mr. Summerfield knelt down and prayed with them; and before he went away, encouraged John, and gave him some good advice ; entered his name on the list of those for whom he felt a peculiar interest, and told him that he should keep his eye upon him, requesting him to come and speak to him whenever he had an opportunity, that he might ascertain what progress his little friend John Brown was making. Carping criticism or cold philosophy may de- spise these little traits, but ministerial wisdom will not. After Mr. Summerfield's severe illness in Philadelphia, in 1822, when he had so far recovered as to be able to ride out, he stopped to visit a pious Presbyterian lady, who like himself had been on the threshold of eternity. In the course of conversation she inquired, "Mr. Summerfield, what were your peculiar views and feelings at that solemn moment which it was thought would be your last?" Mr. Summer- field said that he felt an indescribable- peace, subduing peace. " If," continued he, " I had at that moment given utterance, it would have been peace, 'pea.ce '. I felt as though the spirit were waiting for the word ' come' — as though it were soaring. I looked back upon the earth, and I discovered that there were two slender cords which held me — the church and my family ; but I felt that even these could give way." After a pause he added, " Perhaps it may be thought strange, but I have never desired that mine should be the trium'phant end ; singular to say, I have ever covet- ed the end ai peace, iieace, peace .'" Before he left Baltimore the last time, and but a few weeks previous to his death, Mr. Summerileld was waited upon by a committee of ladies from the Orphan Asylum, 286 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. requesting him to plead the cause of" their institution. He informed them that the state of his health was such as to preclude him from many duties connected with his own church ; at the same time expressing much regret at not being able to comply with their earnest solicitation. One of the ladies thereupon said, " Mr. Summerfield, promise that on. your return from New-York in the course of the spring, you will suffer us to have a claim on you?" Raising his eyes heavenward and clasping his hands, he replied, "Before that time I expect to be in glory." This remark produced an electrifying shock upon the minds of his friends in Balti- more, and has often been adverted to since his death, as appearing somewhat prophetical. It may justly be a subject of gratitude with his friends and with the members of that church with which he was more especially connected, that short as was the life and in- teri'upted as Avas the ministerial eai'eer of this ardent cham- pion of the cross, he not only left, but in no slight degree contributed to make, America better than he found it. His last appearance and eflbrts in public were, as already stated, to witness and celebrate with his brother ministers one of the triumphs of Christian charity which it had ever been his aim to promote. At the first public meeting of the American Tract Society he was present, though on the verge of the grave, to present the following resolution, which he had himself drawn up : " That as all permanent good cometh down from the Father of lights, we do give ourselves continually to prayer for his blessing on this institution, and do urge it upon all the lovers of our Zion to aid us herein by their devout supplications." This resolution he advocated, as appears above, in a strain of pious fervor which well became one who was so soon to join in the songs of the blessed. * * * He declared, that of all the anniversaries of benevolent institutions which he had attended, in Europe, in Canada, and in the United CONCLUDING REMARKS. 287 States, there was not one in which he had seen a spirit of brotherly love and Christian affection among different denom- inations, more manifest. This he felt w^as to be attributed to the presence of a divine influence. His own sense of the goodness of God, and the spectacle he then witnessed, affect- ed him to tears again and again during the course of the meeting, for he felt that the spirit and atmosphere of heaven filled the room ; but he looked so pale and emaciated, that his friends could hardly suppress a tear at his appearance. He had finished his course ; and Providence, as if to render more affecting the completion of the circle of his ministerial labors, so ordered that his last faltering accents in public should be heard in the very same room in which, a few years before, he had first publicly opened his lips in his adopted country, when, in the Bible Society, he held the audience in rapt surprise, astonishment, and admiration. Mr. Summerfield having been waited upon, a few days before his death, by the chairman of the committee appoint- ed to prepare the address of the Executive Committee of the American Tract Society to the Christian public, expressed his earnest desire that his name should appear with those of his brethren in the ministry, as an evidence of the deep interest he felt in the prosperity of this society. At a meeting a few days after his decease, the Executive Committee resolved unanimously to enter upon their minutes the following record, drawn by the lamented Rev. Dr. James Milnor, whose heart blended sweetly with the catholic spirit of Summerfield : "The Committee having, since their last meeting, been called to mourn over the severe loss to which it has been the will of God to subject this infant institution, in the demise of one of its ablest founders and friends, the Rev. John Sum- merfield of the Methodist Episcopal church, deem it their duty to place on record among their earliest transactions, a notice of this afflicting event. While they forbear in the 288 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. slightest manner to murmur at the inscrutable dispensations of an all-wise Providence, they cannot withhold the expres- sion of their grief at the loss of so much unfeigned piety, active zeal. Christian liberality, splendid talent, and warm devotion to the particular object of this society, as character- ized their deceased associate and friend. With the respected religious community to which he was attached, with his im- mediate relatives and friends, and with the many useful in- stitutions with which he was connected, the committee sin- cerely sympathize, and will delight long to cherish in their minds the pleasing recollection of so grateful a circumstance as that of which they are assured, that among the last as- pirations of a saint, now as we trust in the bosom of his Saviour and his God, this institution was so affectionately remembered, and his kindest wishes left for its prosperity and success." REMINISCENCES. 289 REMINISCENCES. The Rev. Dr. Bond, in his introduction to " Summer- field's Sermons and Sketches of Sermons," writes, " His discourses did not strike one by the novelty of his opinions, or by the erudition they displayed. There were, it is true, in all his sermons, ' thoughts that breathed and words that burned ;' but for the most part, they presented only ' what oft was thought, though ne'er so well expressed.' What, then, was the irresistible charm in his preaching ? We honestly confess we cannot say. We have some vague idea of it, but cannot embody it in words. There was, how- ever, one peculiarity which could not fail to strike the hearer : it was what is called, by common consent, simplicity. The truths he dwelt upon he had felt in all their power, and he presented them in the simple, chaste, and forcible language of unsophisticated feeling. The hearer who participated in his religious enjoyments, responded instinctively to the verv spirit of the preacher ; and one who knew nothing of such experience felt that it was the most important want of his nature, and his whole soul went out in cravings for the pos- session. It was this simplicity of style which never failed to make its way to the heart, as certainly as pompous dic- tion and parade of language and learning shut up every avenue to the feelings. " But though there was much iu the clear perception, and the personal experience of the truths presented, and much too in the simplicity of the style and language in which they were clothed, it must be admitted that there was something in the manner of the preacher which greatly added to the eflect of his preaching. But who can describe this manner ? It was not the gracefulness of his attitudes Summerfield. ] .> 290 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. and action, tliuugh these were perfect. Every uioveiucnt, whether of body or members, was not only exactly correct, but intuitively expressive of thought or feeling, appearing to obey some immediate impulse of the soul. There was nothing theatrical, nothing studied, nothing which gave the slightest suspicion that it was done for effect. All seemed to come unsought — the immediate, spontaneous sympathy of a body which lived and acted in obedience to the promptings of the soul within it. Yet this was not the peculiar charm, how- ever important an auxiliary it might be. It was not even the first or the strongest impression made on the auditory, though it could not fail to be taken into the account. But that which we remember to have struck us most forcibly in the manner of Mr. Summerfield, was the meekness, the hu- mility, the lowliness of heart which appeared in his whole deportment, bringing forcibly to the mind the language and the example of Him who said, ' Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart.' Every one saw personified the Saviour of men in the act of washing the feet of his disciples, and the soul clave to the minister who bore the image and super- scription of his Lord. It was this that so prepossessed you, as to subdue and shame every previously-formed iutentiou to criticize the coming sermon. The affections were surren- dered at once, and the decisions of the judgment were antici- pated by the suffrage of the heart." The Rev. Dr. Matthew Riciiey remarks "of this ad- mirable and lamented young minister, whom the great Head of the church made a polished shaft in his quiver, and in whom He was greatly glorified," " At the age of twenty-three, Summerfield's mind exhib- ited a harmony and an expansion which very rarely antici- pate the meridian of life. The unearthly invigoration of the love of Christ a fiords the only satisfactorv solution of REMINISCENCES. 291 the rapid developiiieiit oi" his imcommoii mental energies. Though a diligent student, time had not permitted him to attain lull maturity of scholarship ; but he possessed in a high degree all the attributes of a mind of the first oi'der. His understanding was clear, his judgment discriminating, and his imagination so vigorous and susceptible, that it cost him no eflbrt to fling the hues and tints of vitality over the abstractions of truth, and thus to impart to the most com- monplace topic all the freshness and interest of originality. The natural eilect of his thrilling eloquence was materially aided by a person and manner the most graceful, and an aspect of angelic benignity : its moral charm was the dem- onstration and power of that divine Spirit '• 'Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire.' Summerfield was an exteni'poraneous, preacher, so far as it is proper for any young minister to be so. His sermons indeed were any thing but unpremeditated efiusions. Hav- ing enjoyed the rare intellectual luxury of poring over his manuscripts, we are prepared to state, that his preparations .for the pulpit evince the full concentration of all the powers of his mind, and the best use of all the resources of know- ledge within his reach, on the subjects on which he expati- ated. But though rich in thought and logical in their arrangement, the composition, purposely it would seem, is left unfinished. Definitions and exegetical remarks are gen- erally written out with studious accuracy and precision ; but the occurrence on almost every page of broken hints, followed by a significant dash of the pen, indicates the ora- tor's impatience of the trammels and tedium of previous composition, and the stirring of deep emotion within the breast, that could find full vent only amid the hallowed ex- citements of the sanctuary. He did not ' oiler to God of that which cost him nothing ;' but it was the altar that sancti- fied his gift, and the fire that enkindled his sacrifice issued immediately from the propitious heavens. 292 REV. JOHN SUMMEllFJELD. "Whoever would form or exhibit a just appreciation of this incomparable youth, must, like him, be decidedly Wes- leyan in his creed and predilections, in soul an orator, and in piety a saint. "'0 natc, ingentcm hictuin no qu;cro tuoruin ; Ostendont terris huno tantuin fata, nequo ultra Esse sinent.' " REMINISCENCES BY MARINUS WILLETT, M. D. " The first opportunity I had of seeing Mr. Summerfield was on the platlbrm of the City Hotel, on the anniversary of the American Bible Society, in the year 1822. On that occasion, the venerable .IudI heard brother Summerfield preach last night at Eu- taw, to one of the most crammed congregations I ever saw. The clergy generally, 1 believe, were present, and, as far as I have heard, all were greatly pleased. Dr. Glendy, to Avhom I was introduced, said to me, ' Well, wo have had a gospel feast, and in the first style of elegance.' I have just come from dining at the Rev. Mr. Nevins' in company Avith 312 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. ten clergymen, Methodists and others, including Mr. Sum- merfield. Poor fellow, he is caressed and run after, almost beyond meaftire ; I wish he may have grace to bear it. I think him an amiable young man, and admire him far above any of his age I have ever heard. He has promised to go with me to Annapolis on Friday to sj^end the Sabbath there." This Mr. Summerlield accordingly did, and thus speaks of his visit in a letter written to Mr. Emory some time afterwards : "I bid you farewell with a grateful remembrance of the kindness you showed me at Annapolis, and the solicitude you manifested to administer to my many wants, and add to my abundant comforts. This is no paradox to you ; while my body was weak, my spirit was refreshed day by day, and as iron sharpeneth iron, so did the face of my friend — my first friend in tliis strange land — refresh my heart." Allusion is here made to the flict, that on Mr. Summer- field's arrival in this country, Mr. Emory, having previously become acquainted with him in England, was enabled to relieve him from a very embarrassing situation in which he was placed lor want of the usual testimonials of his minis- terial standing at home, Avhich he had not brought with him, because he did not expect to remain in this country. Life of Emory, page 138 RECOLLECTIONS OF SUMMERFIELD, BY THE REV. DR. GEORGE W. BETHUXE. " The portrait of Summerfield,* though much too health- ful, is perhaps the best likeness imitative skill could give of that most apostolical young man. It is impossible to im- press upon canvas or steel the holy sweetness which they who had the privilege of knowing him, remember irradiating his pale, worn features, when he talked of the love of Jesus from the pulpit, on the platform, or by the fii'cside. Much * See Frontispiece. EEMIXISCENCES. 313 less can the cold pen describe the charm of his eloquence, so simple that you could discover iu it no rhetorical art, or of his manner, so mild, and from bodily weakness often so feeble, that the entranced hearer knew not how he was so deeply moved, or so irresistibly carried away. The secret of his power was undoubtedly his sincerity, his earnest delight in the truth as it is in Jesus, and his zeal to win souls from eternal death for his Master's glory, and also, the peculiar efficacy with which the Holy Spirit, who inspired that truth he loved to preach in such pureness, unfeignedness, and char- ity, accompanied the labors of one so devoted to his work, whose course on earth was to be so brief " His discipline, by the providence of God, was severe. Like the apostle Paul, ' he had a thorn in the flesh,' a pain- ful, and as he had reason to believe, an incurable disease. He knew that his life could not be long. With eternity ever before him, ' he endured as seeing Him who is invisible.' To him, as he ' died daily,' the worlds applause and the pleas- ures of this life were little worth. He was continually look- ing at ' the things which are not seen and eternal.' He felt that there was nothing left for him, but to crowd into his few remaining days as much usefulness as was possible through the permission of God upon whom he relied. The usefuhiops he desired was the best usefulness, the edification of saints and the conversion of sinners. The means he employed were the very best means, the pure word of the gospel, ' the wisdom of God, and the power of God.' " It is said, ' he was a man oi prayer ;' but he was in no less eminent degree a man of the Bihle. He appeared to lose himself entirely in the preacher. He was free from what is frequently little better than tricky conceit, ' textual' divis- ions. He struck immediately at the main thought. He gathered his argument from the connection, or that of par- allel passages. It was his text preaching, rather than him- self. His language was very scriptural, his defmitious and SummerfitM. 14 314 REV. JuIiX SUMMERFIELD. his illustrations Averc, with scarce an exception, from the Bible. He may not have been a classical scholar iii the stronpfcr sense ol' the term, though it was not ditficult to de- tect a familiarity with good authors, and an occasional refer- ence to their elegance in his style, but he hallowed all with that ' unction from the Holy One,' which can only be receiv- ed on our knees before ' the living oracles.' AYith little of their quaintness, he had all the naturalness — the natural- ness of a better nature — that characterizes the older English divines. Every sentence of his that I remember, is pure Saxon, the English of our beloved English Bible. He turned his sweetest passages, or gave them epigrammatic point, by a scriptural phrase at their close. The flock of Christ, un- der the guidance of the stripling shepherd, were led in the green pastures and beside the still waters wliere his own soul had been fed. They felt safe under his in.structions, for tliey saw the landmarks which God has set. His metaphysics were not labored and abstruse, for he found his philosophy sitting at the feet of Him who preached his gospel to the poor. " Summerfield was too honest to check the exclamations that rose flowing from his heart to his lips, at the gracious wonders of divine truth. Like the ardent Paul, the name of Jesus, a sight of the cross, a glimpse of the glory that shall be revealed, made him cry out in subdued and holy ecstasy. Or, as the thought of souls perishing in sin pressed upon his soul, he would break his order w^ith an earnest ejaculation. ' Would to God I' ' that God !' ' God grant I' were frequent from his lips, not carelessly, but with an emphasis of devo- tion none could doubt. Indeed, he not only prayed before he preached and after he preached — for he went to the pul- pit from his knees, and to his knees from his pulpit — but lie seemed to be praying while he preached. Prayer was so much his breath, that as Gregory Nazianzen says of the true Christian, the breathing went on whatever he was do- ing, not hindering him, but necessary to him. The hearer REMINISCENCES. 31-0 felt that it was the preacher's heart, as well as his mind and voice, that was talking to him ; and that that heart was in- voking blessings for,, while it pleaded with, sinners and saints. " He had also an easy wit, which upon fitting occasions played gracefully, but never sarcastically. He was too kind- hearted to be sarcastic, too devout to be jocose. " The first time that I heard him — and perhaps the sec- ond time he spoke here in public — was on the anniversary of the American Bible 'Society, then an infant institution. I recollect the venerable president, Elias Boudinot, leaving the chair to seek some repose from the excitement too severe for his aged frame. The speaker who preceded Summerfield, was a divine then and long afterward highly esteemed and admired for his strong sense, his elaborate finish, and his Ciceronian dignity. His address was truly a masterpiece, prolc)und in argument, accurate in logical analysis, and very impressive in its conclusions. A clerical gentleman — since gone to his rest — who was kind enough to take an interest in a lad like myself, was frequent in his expressions of delight and admiration — calling my attention to his gesture, his pithy sentences, and his elegant elucidation. The orator closed amidst murmurs of applause, and the chair aimounced ' the Rev. Mr. Sunnnerfield from England.' ' AVhat presump- tion I' said my clerical neighbor ; ' a boy like that to be set up after a giant I' But the stripling came in the name of the God of Israel, armed with ' a few smooth stones from the brook' that Hows ' close by the oracles of God.' His motion was one of thanks to the olficers of the Society for their labors during the year, and of course he had to allude to the Pres- ideul, tlien reposing in another part of the house ; and thus he did il : " ' ^Ylleu I saw that venerable man, too aged to warrant the hope of being with you at another anniversary, lie re- tninded mc of Jacob leaning ujwn (he to}) of his siaf, bless- ing Jiis children before lie departed.' 31G ilEV. JOHN SUMMERFIELI). "He then passed on to encourage the society by tlie ex- ample of the British institution. ' "When we first launched our untried vessel upon the deep, the storms of opposition roared, and the waves dashed angrily around us, and we had hard work to keep her head to the wind. We were faint with rowing, and our strength would soon have been gone, but we cried, ' Lord, save us, or we perish.' When a light ahone vpon the ivatcrs, and ire sair a form loalking upon the troubled sea, like unto that of the So)i of God, and he drew near the ship, and we knew t/iat it teas Jesus ; and he stepped upon the deck, and laid his hand on the helm, and he said unto the ivinds and the waves, ' Peace, be still;' and there teas a great calm. Let not the friends of tlie Bible fear, God is in the midst of us. God shall help us, and that right early.' In such a strain he went on to the close. 'Wonderful, wonderful!' said my neighbor the critic, 'he talks like an angel from heaven.' " The next time that I heard him, was in the John-street church. The only method by which I could see him, from among the taller crowd who filled evei-y accessible space, was by climbing like Zacchcus, not a tree, but a huge church stove that stood in the uorlli-eastern corner. I can give you no part of the sermon, but 1 well remember a fact that will show the intense power he had of riveting the atten- tion. We had all been crowded in the cliuich at least an hour and a half before the time of service, and among those in the front of the gallery ojiposite to me, was a group of the most fashionable women then in New York ; one of whom was remarkable for her beauty, but still more famous for her wit, that defied all restraint of time, place, or person. Before the service commenced, she was endeavoring to change her very uneasy position for one more comfortable, but in vain. French hats and Methodist bonnets were jammed closely in almost inextricable confusion. Miss F 's pos- ture was still most painful ; but the moment Summeriield REMINISCENCES. 317 began to preach, her eyes were riveted upon him, and with her lips slightly opened, and at times twitching convulsively, she listened without moving until he ceased, when she lieaved a deep sigh, as if only then permitted to breathe. What effect, other than this, the preaching had upon her, it is impossible to say, but wherever Summerfield was to speak, she was to be found. May we not hope — for she has long since gone to her account — that some seeds were sown in her heart which are now bearing fruit in heaven ? " Preaching one morning in the Allen-street Methodist church, upon Romans 8 : 38, 39, he wished to define and illustrate Christian confidence; he did it in this way : 'You remember Peter, when he was imprisoned, chained between two soldiers. The church was praying in tears, wondering what would become of them if their strong champion was taken from them. The enemies of God on earth, and the devils in hell, were rejoicing that they had Peter in their power. The angels in heaven, ever intent upon the mys- teries of Providence in redemption, were sending down to see what the Lord would do with Peter. AVhen heaven and earth and hell were thinking of Peter, what were Peter's thoughts ? ^A'hat was Peter doing ? Peter icas asleep.' " The sermon for the deaf and dumb, as printed, is noth- ing like what it was when delivered, either in thought or language. Summerfield himself wrote it, but after it was preached. He could not catch his own 'winged words.' The pen trammelled him. One striking sentence, which thrilled through us all, is left out altogether. ' Turn away from these children of allliction,' said he, ' and when the Lord says, " Inasmuch as you did it not unto the least of these, you did it not unto me," ijoic too may be dumb, speech- less ill shame.' "'' He evidently took his last fatal cold at the laying of the corner-stone of the Tract Society House, in Nassau- street, from standing on the damp earth which had been 318 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. thrown up to make room for the foundation. But that morning, at the meeting in the City Hotel, he had made one of his most dehghtiul speeches. ' Thomas Paine,' said he, ' boasted that he woukl root up every tree in paradise. Would to God that he had laid hold of the tree of life.' " Such are a few instances of his eloquence. It was peculiar to himself. Sweet as was his voice to us then, it is sweeter now. May we all hear it in heaven. 'Though dead, he yet speaketh' in many hearts. There is one heart that can never forget him — the heart of the writer. " Philadelphia, September, 1845." FROM AN ARTICLE BY THE REV. JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D., PRINCETON, N. J. " It was, I think, in the spring of 1S21, that I first saw Mr. Summerfield. Having undertaken a pedestrian excur- sion in the state of New York, I happened to be at Troy during the meeting of a conference, and there heard him preach before a large assembly, which included a great num- ber of preachers. It was before disease had marred his youthful beauty. There was an infantine freshness and rud- diness in his cheek, and an inexpressible brilliancy in his ten- der and yet laughing eye. His voice was music itself Every things in his manner was instinct with exuberant vigor. " His text was 1 Cor. 11:1: 'Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ.' He held forth Paul's imitation of Christ as the model for the Christian minister. After the lapse of twenty-four years, it is not wonderful that my recol- lections of the discourse should be somewhat faint ; yet some things thei'e were which made an indelible impression. Eloquent as he was in every part of his masterly perform- ance, I distinctly remember that no single portion of it so moved and melted the great assembly, even to tears, as his simple rehearsal of the apostle's sulierings, in his own words, REMINISCENCES. 319 ' 111 Stripes, in iiuprisonmeiils,' etc. 2 Cor. G : 1-11. Never have I heard a passage of Scripture recited with such pathos. He introduced a beautiful quotation from the dyinj^ expres- sions of Mehincthon, in aUusion to a shipwreck ; but I can- not now venture to reproduce it. In turning to the audience at hirge. near his peroration, lie said, ' But, brethren, you should all be preachers ; not pulpit-preachers, it may be, but street-preachers and parlor-preachers.' And then in refer- ence to some who dread the undue multiplication of preach- ers, and who are jealous for the dignity of the regular min- istry, he cited, with a very signincant archness, the reply of Moses when Joshua complained that Eldad and Medad were prophesying: 'And Moses said unto him, Enviest thou for mji sake ? would God that all the Loi-d's people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his Spirit upon them.' Num. 11 :29. " In this, as in all Mr. Summerfield's performances, nothing was more remarkable than the total forgetfulness of self. All was childlike simplicity and nature, yet fervid and pathetic, to a degree which cannot be communicated to those who never heard him. Many orators have I heard, but never any one whose elocution and manner were so cap- tivating and persuasive. The unction and confidence of his prayers were also strikingly great, and the manner in which he repeated the Lord's prayer transcended all the tricks of elocutionists and actors. " Some time after this I again heard him, when he vis- ited Princeton, N. J. The discourse which, at that time, he preached in the Presbyterian church, is the same of which the outline is preserved in Dr. Bond's Collection, No. 79, entitled ' A Friend at Court.' The text was Heb. 4:14: ' Seeing then that we have a great High-priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession.' But that sketch, hoAvever interesting in itself, can convey no idea of the fulness, the rapidity, or the glow- 320 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. ing amplification of the discourse. In this, as in all his sermons, he was remarkable for the quick succession of new thoughts. No man better observed the caution, Le secret cTennuycr est celui de tout dire. Summerficld did not say every thing, and he did not weary. Not only did he not dwell very long on any point, but, after presenting it most vividly, he immediately and most adroitly glided to another, keeping up a sparkling current of p«rpetual change. The discourse comprised a brief, but able vindication of the divin- itj' of our Lord. One of his illustrations, in which he repre- sented an execution, and the crowd opening to a horseman bearing a reprieve, was graphic, and never to be forgotten. " It was my happiness to hear Mr. Summerfield, on a second visit to Princeton, in the summer of 1824. Alas, he was at this time enfeebled by disease, and no longer bloom- ing in the vigor of his first appearance in America. His visage was pallid, and his voice was much injured. Yet he preached Avith uncommon power, and with a tenderness and awe which abundantly made up for any lack of vivacity. His subject was ' Isaiah's vision,' Isaiah 6 : 1-8. See Dr. Bond's Collection, No. 23, p. IGo. He rose above himself, and seemed to see heaven opened, as with a seraphic glow he caught the adoring song, ' Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts.' "Well do I remember, after so many years, the delightful transition, when, from depicting the awful glories of God's unapproachable majesty, in the temple ' filled with smoke,' he passed to the ' Lamb in the midst of the throne,' as the reconciling sacrifice. " On the day following I was admitted, by what-we call a mere casualty, to some personal acquaintance with Mr. Summerfield. He was about to be admitted, as an honorary member, to one of the literary societies of the college of New Jersey. While he was waiting to be introduced, he was brought by his attendant to the room which I occupied in Nassau Hall. No one who ever knew him needs to be re- REMINISCENCES. 321 luiuded of the suavity and ease of his manner, even to the young. It was an interview which, though brief, left deep traces on my memory. He seized the moment to give me some very seasonable counsels. Among other subjects he touched upon the necessity of divine illumination, in order to the understanding of the Scriptures, and its superiority to all the aids of human learning. In this connection he related that Dr. Doddridge, when composing his celebrated Exposition, was accustomed, after laboring upon a difficult passage, to carry it to a poor and uneducated member of his church, whom he believed to be taught by the Holy Ghost, in order to get his opinion upon the passage in question. Speak- ing also of stated times for prayer, he said, ' It is good to have a fixed time, and a fixed place for devotion. By the law of association, these will recall holy thoughts to the mind.' " Some months after this I was favored with two letters from Mr. Summerfield." See pages 247, etc. " They need no comment. But I may be allowed to add, that after years of public labor, I recollect no counsels on the subject of preaching to which I attach more value." The two following extracts are given as a sample of letters of the same character mIucIi Mr. Summerfield very frequently received during his brief ministerial career. FROM A YOUXG GENTLEMAN, MAY 1.3, 1823, THEN A STUDENT AT LAW, NOW A MINISTER OF CHRIST. *' I sensibly feel, that in the hands of God, you were the one who instructed me in the very first principles of relig- ion ; for before I attended your ministry, I was as little acquainted with the doctrines of the new birth, and of jus- tification by faith, as if I had been born and educated in a heathen land. Though suflering under a painful sense of sin, its present heinousness, and the future punishment which awaited it, yet I was walking daringly forward in my career 14* 322 REV. JUJIN SUMMERFIELD. of vice when I heard you for the first time from Hebrews 12:1; my feet seemed riveted to the floor. From that morning my convictions of sin, which had for some time past been occasionally severe and poignant, became more and more frequent, and yet more and more terrible to bear. But notwithstanding I had become a more uniform attend- ant upon public worship, still I did not relinquish my former pursuits. Satan was yet my master ; and though, tlirough the assistance of the Spirit of God, I was struggling hard to emancipate myself, my immortal soul, from his destructive power, yet he held me fast bound in the chains of sin and death. I continued to walk in the downward road, if not with equal zest and delight as in former days, yet with a more awful precipitancy, a far greater degree of desperation. On every returning Sabbath, however, conscience failed not to rise up against me with renewed strength, crying aloud, ' Turn ye from your evil ways.' But so deeply fixed were my old habits, that it seemed like rooting out the seeds of life from the ground of the heart, wholly to abandon them. Nevertheless, after a^long and agonizing struggle, I was enabled by the grace of God wholly to abandon them ; and though I cannot to the hour mention Avhen the burden of sin and death was removed, yet I humbly trust I can say, I know I have passed from death unto life, because 1 love the brethren ; and also from that mysterious, though entire rev- olution which has been eflected in my feelings, my senti- ments, and my pursuits. " My song now, day and night, is praise and thanksgiv- ing to my Redeemer." FROM A STUDENT OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, PRINCETON, DEC. 4, 182*2, NOW A MINISTER OF THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH. ♦ "I should do injustice to my feelings did I not take this opportunity of thanking you for the kindly interest you have ever taken in uiy spiritual welfare. I shall ever have REMINISCENCES. 3:23 reason to bless God that I have heard you ; for it was through your instrumentality, under the blessed God, that I was lirst led to turn my attention to those subjects which belong to my eternal peace. It was under your preaching that I iirst Avas brought to see my danger as a sinner exposed to the curse of a broken law. I felt that I had never an- swered the object of my creation, the glory of God, but I raised my puny arms'against the authority of the Most High ; and the language of my heart and actions has been, ' there is no God.' You preached Christ and him crucified, and offered a Saviour willing and able to save to the uttermost. I felt my need of such a Saviour, and as I trust, accepted of him as my portion, as my all in all. I am now a pro- fessed follower of the meek and loM'ly Jesus, and have de- termined, relying upon his grace to support and strengthen me, to devote myself soul and body to his service. I feel more and more the great importance of the work for which I am preparing, and its awful responsibility. ' ^^ ho is sulfi- cient ibr these things?' I trust, my dear friend, that you will pray for me, that my faith and love, and all my Chris- tian graces, may be in lively exercise." fro:m a lady. " May I not be pardoned for the peculiar feeling I cher- ish for the memory of him who of me could say, in the words of the inspired apostle, ' Through Christ Jesus, I have begotten you in the gospel?' " The sketch by has brought tlie sainted Summer- field vividly before me. AVell do I renioinber his reading of the hymn that writer reiers to ; but it was not when read- ino- it to his audience that he invested it with its peculiar power. The influence was felt when he quoted it in prayer. After having, in tones of most earnest supplica- tion, implored God to 324 R E V . JO 11 N S U il M E R F I E L D. " ' Take my soul and boJy's powers — Take my meraory, mind, and will — All my goods and all my hours — All I know and all I feel — All I think, or speak, or do — Take my heart, but make it new.' his whole manner would change, and, in the joyful exulta- tion of assured victory, he would exclaim, " ' Now. my God, thine own I am; Now I give thee back thine own ! Freedom, health, and friendly fame ■Conseorate to thee alone ! Thine I live, thine happy I : Happier still, if thine I die.' " I have heard Mr. Summerfield introduce another verse with great eOect, in the following manner. Describing the adoration of the heavenly host, he would say, " ' Worthy the Lamb that died, they cry, To be exalted thus' — but angel powers were not competent to finish the verse ; no, it was left for man, for fallen man, to complete the stanza, and say, " ' Worthy the Lamb that died, icc cry, For he was slain for us .'' " I heard the first sermon Mr. Suminerfield preached in the city of New York. It was from the text, ' Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness ;' and it may be that many others besides the young girl who hung upon his words with breathless interest, can remember, that while alleging the insufficiency of earthly good and worldly know- ledge to yield abiding happiness, he spoke of the pbilosopher, and exclaimed, ' Let him skip like a mountain-goat from star to star, until at last he reach that great luminary — let all the planetary system pass before him, and let him under- stand all their mysteries — let Nature stand confessed in luminous simplicity, and show those things which now she REMINISCENCES. 325 holds most dear, still there is an aching void ; for though he sees a God without, he feels him not within — still, like Alexander, though on a diflerent occasion, he would weep tears of blood that there was not another world of science to explore.' That first sermon had an electrical efiect ; but it is not left for me to depict his triumphs and his sway. He did, indeed, sway his congregation at will. W hile preaching from the text, ' If a man believe my saying, he shall not see death,' he introduced part of Pope's address of the dying Christian to his soul, commencing at, " ' "What is this absorb.s me quite ?' and when he came to the line, " • Lend, lend your wings; I mount, I fly !' hundreds of his audience rose involuntarily from their seats ; and the close of the quotation found them standing on their feet, with their heads inclining towards the preacher, and their eyes riveted upon that youthful being, who seemed to have naught of humanity about him, save the fetters he was so soon to di'op. " Nor was it in the pulpit alone that this mastery was his: his social life abounded iu incidental instruction. I trace the vivid appreciation 1 have of temporal blessings, and my power to thank God Ibr ' a grateful heart, that tastes those gifts with joy,' to a blessing which he asked at our tea-table, in those my youthful days. He said, ' May we receive the food before us with gratitude, remembering that all these common blessings are most uncommon mer- cies, and that temporal, equally with spiritual gifts, are the dear-bought purchase of the blood of Christ.' "At the same table I one day spoke ungrammatically. He corrected my error — we were but a family party — when an elderly person present said, ' If you are so particular, I shall be afraid to speak.' His quick response and apology was, ' 0, you and I were born in the last century ; but lor 326 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. E there is no excuse.' And there was none ; and never since that time have I said ' learned,' when I ought to have said ' taught.'' He was cheerful in conversation, even to livehness, abounding in anecdote, and exceUing in its rela- tion. Well might any one who w^as admitted to familiar intercourse with him say, ' In all things I am instructed.' '^E. M. B." FROM A LETTER OF THE REV. JAMES TOA^^'LEV, D. D., LONDON, OCT. 20, 1825. " I am well convinced that, 'take him for all in all, I ne'er shall look upon his like again.' His deep piety, unas- suming yet most amiable manners, micommon talents, and susceptible mind endeared him to his friends, and gave an ardor to their attachment bordering on enthusiasm, and rendered him the object of universal esteem and unbounded popularity." FROM THE POET MONTGOMERY. " Summerfield," says Montgomery on reading his man- uscripts, " w'as not a man of every day ; there is yet fire enough in his ashes to kindle a ilame tliat will be much lonjjer lived than himself" FROM THE REV. WILLIAM NEVINS, D. D., BALTIMORE. " Simplicity, artlessness, and fervor were among the characteristics of his eloquence. It has been said by some, that there was art in it : if there was, it was the absolute perfection of art, for it succeeded in concealing its own ex- istence — it was the art of nature, if I may so express it. " In conversation he was often brilliant and always interesting. His sweet spirit of piety diflused itself through all that he said — but the pulpit was his stronghold, and in the simple preaching of the gospel lay his great talent." REMINISCENCES. 327 RECOLLECTIONS OF SL^DIERFIELD'S FATHER AND MOTHER BY HIS ELDEST SISTER. " My father and mother were married at the ajre of about twenty, depending solely upon the talents and industry of my father, ^y mother, by her economy and excellent management, proved herself then, as in after-life, a helj)- meet. At this period my parents were not members of any religious body ; my mother had, previous to her marriage, been a regular attendant of the established church. " My father was very companionable, and being fond of music, having a fine voice and playing on an instrument, he was much sought after, and consequently became ensnared by gay and thoughtless company ; indeed, I have heard my mother say that she felt the greatest anxiety on his account, not knowing what the consequences might be. After the birth of their first child he continued to spend his evenings a good deal from home, to the great discomfort of my mother. When the child was about a year old the smallpox broke out, which made dreadful ravages in the neighborhood of Manchester where they resided. They became exceedingly alarmed for their infant, and fled from the town ; but on their return, after an absence of some weeks, their infant son sickened and died. " This day of sorrow was the commencement of my father's spiritual career ; my mother said that for a time he seemed to be inconsolable. The evening following the interment he went to hear the Rev. Joseph Benson, a Methodist preacher of great celebrity ; and under the power- ful preaching of this ' man of God,' as my father always emphatically termed him, was the great and decided change efl'ected. And I feel privileged to say of my revered father, that he ever manifested himself to us his children a tried saint. Indeed, to me it is delightful to dwell upon the excel- lences oi his character. His attainments as a Christian 328 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. were of a high order. He wtus a man of unceasing prayer, and almost unexampled self-denial. " My mother's countenance was very pleasing, resem- bling that of my brother John ; her eye a soft blue, her com- plexion fair and delicate, with an agreeable, though rather pensive expression. She was of a retiring disposition, yet firm of purpose, with more discrimination than my father, who was too apt to place unreserved confidence in strangers. I have often known my mother to warn him of certain indi- viduals, some of them professors of religion, and he was obliged frequently, to his sorrow, to confess that her estimate of character was astonishingly correct. ■" After the birth of their second child, my parents re- moved from Manchester to Preston, the birth])lace of my brother John. In this place they resided a number of years, and enjoyed their greatest worldly prosperity. Here my mother, I presume, became a member of the Wesleyan soci- ety, for such she was from my earliest recollection. She was a most devoted mother, in the common acceptation of the term, and manifested the greatest interest in the most important concern of our being. It was usual for my brother John and myself, being the eldest, to sit with her some time after the other children had retired, for the purpose of read- ing to her ; and she had a happy way of arousing our inter- est on subjects for conversation. "On one occasion she tried us on the subject o[ faith. She told us it was not our merely asscntifig to those things made known to us by the word of God, but our so believing and trusting in them as to guide our conduct. She would, in the most simple manner, illustrate faith by commenting on my father's promises to us his children under many and various circumstances, and our trust and confidence in his fulfilling them. She would urge us to examine ourselves, and see whether we did not more frequently honor the word REMINISCENCES. 329 of our earthly parent than the word of God. She was fear- ful that the reading of the Scriptures might become a mere form, and tavight us that if we would read with profit, we must read bcllcviiighj, always bearing in mind that 'the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.' " At another time she asked, if I were very sick, and as I might suppose at the point of death, and my father should tell me of a certain remedy which was so placed that by my exertion I could obtain it, I should so believe him as to make the eflbrt. I said I should. Then, she said, ' My dear child, you must have full confidence in what your heavenly Father promises to do for those who love him and keep his com- mandments ; for remember, God loves you much better than your parents arc capable of loving you. " My mother was of a much less ardent temperament than my father ; she rarely manifested any exuberance of feeling, and I think she had not such continued spiritual enjoyment. Sometimes, and especially when her health was declining, I have heard my father endeavor to comfort her and strengthen her faith, telling her that it was her privilege to be delivered from all fear, yea, from the fear of death. I think her maul was harassed on this subject; but I have been told that she obtained entire deliverance before she was called hence. In her peaceful death my dear father was peculiarly sustained and comforted. " In the management of her children, and iu all her domestic relations, in the most trying circumstances, she could not be surpassed. It Avas her rule to study the pecu- liar disposition of her children, and to suit her instructions accordingly. She used to say, in I'amilios of children, some may be dniioi, and some required to be drivoi. She would say of my brother William, who was rather dilficult to man- age by those who did not know him, I can draw him by a silken thread. Such was her inlluence with her boys, that I have seen her beckon to them when with a dozen boys of 330 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. their own age, and in the midst of some interesting games, the hour having come for Jier boys to leave the play-ground, and it was a rare thing for them to evince the least dis- pleasure. They had been taught obedience from their in- fancy. I have heard her say, ' How thankful I ought to feel that my boys are so docile ; they promise to be an honor to their parents : if it were not so, I could hardly bear it.' " My father was necessarily separated a great portion of his time from his family ; sometimes he would be absent on business many weeks. How I have seen his countenance lighten up on his return home, when, in answer to his inquiries, my mother was enabled to give a satisfactory ac- count of us. Then he would produce some little memorials of his afiection, and handing them over to her, would say, 'Distribute these as you think best;' which she would do very judiciously. "My mother's kindness and consideration for the poor, and particularly the sick poor, were such as to preclude all thought either of expense or trouble. It was her custom to have gruels, soups, and other nourishing articles of food pre- pared under her own superintendence, and she spent much of her time in visiting them. She was greatly respected in her neighborhood, and by the families of the workmen in my father's employ was much beloved. There were twelve families on the foundry premises, to whose calls in their trouble she was at all times subject. She was much respected by her servants, and never permitted an luikind or ungenerous expression to be made to them by any of us. " The Rev. Thomas Thompson, alluded to in the Me- moirs, p. 120, entered my father's house as an apprentice, and I believe chiefly through the influence of the example and instructions of my parents became a devoted child of God and a useful minister of Christ. After he became pious, according with my mother's desire, he always dined with us REMINISCENCES. 331 on the Sabbath, which he considered a mark of her deep interest in him. I beheve he sincerely loved her. " When I was about eight years old, my father had a very narrow escape, illustrative of that special providence mani- fested to such as ' magnify God in all his ways.' I shall never forget his manner, when he related his deUverance from the jaws of death. He came to see me at a boarding- school : I had retired ; he came into my room, and drawing aside the curtain, seated himself on the side of my bed. He began by saying, ' Ellen, my love, you will praise the Lord with me, when I tell you what a mighty deliverance he hath wrought for me. Yes, my dear daughter, I never expected to see you again ; but, bless God, your father is again per- mitted to embrace his dear children. how I looked upon you as orphans I' Here, as frequently during the recital, his utterance was choked, and he wept unceasingly. Again he said, ' Pray, my love, that my spared life may be spent more to His glory.' " This perilous situation was in crossing the Lancaster sands, which is literally a bar of qidcksaiid, the crossing of which ought never to be undertaken without a guide. My dear father was not fully aware of the necessity of this pre- caution, and his business being urgent he had ventured to cross, and was surprised by the tide flowing in, and his being surrounded by water. Finding it impossible to proceed, he made an efibrt to turn his horse, but found that the noble animal could not extricate himself, having sunk lower and lower at every plunge for some time previous to this awful moment. My father then saw nothing but death, death inevitable. 'And,' he added, 'with what agony did I bid vou each farewell. how I wrestled with God, while poor Jack,' his horse, ' plunged and labored for his master.' About this time he saw at a distance a fisherman's boat ; he ob- served by the gestures of the man that his situation was all 332 REV. JOHN SUMMEE.FIELD. but hopeless ; the fishennan evidently made an eflbrt to be heard, but this could not be, from the rushing in of the waters. Bj' this time the horse had sunk half Avay uj) the chest. My father gave himself up, and throwing down the reins, raised his eyes to heaven, to commit his spirit into the hands of Him who gave it, when to his astonishment his horse made one mighty efibrt and extricated himself, and by degrees was enabled to reach the place he had left some hours before. ' My first act,' said my father, ' as you, my dear Ellen, would expect, was to dismount and kneel before my God ; and if your father ever prayed, it was then. Mine was indeed a song of praise and thanksgiving : '• 'I'll prui^^e him wliile In/ linuls me breath.' On rising from his knees his attention was directed to a small hut, where he was informed that they had observed a person in the quicksands, and consequently had in their own minds consigned him to death. They told him that the week pre- vious a carriage had attempted to cross, and every soul had perished. " On another occasion, on coming home from school, my father was seated with the two youngest children on his lap. I observed one of his hands bound up in a silk handkerchief; his countenance beamed sweetly upon me, but I saw he had been weeping. On inquiring what was the matter, I was informed that he had that morning been called, in the way of his business as engineer, to examine some extensive coal- mines. After being detained below for some hours, he as- cended one of the pits, but was so overpowered by the change of atmosphere, as to cause him to faint ; he was conscious, when he first felt the sensation, that nothing could save him from a fall that would have reduced his body to a state not to be recognized. After this moment he was lost entirely to himself; and when he recovered his reason found hiinselt extended upon the ground, surrounded by those M'ho had REMINISCENCES. 333 drawn up liis apparently lifeless form. He was wonderfully preserved by the twisting of the ropes of the bucket in which he had placed his feet lor the purpose of ascending, being so completely entwined as to preserve the body in an upright position. It was by the twisting of these ropes that his hands and his fingers were lacerated and crushed. He was so deeply aliected at this signal instance of God's goodness, that he could not advert to it either in family prayer or otherwise without the deepest emotion. " I have often looked upon my father with feelings ten- derly alive to his bereaved situation, after the death of my dear mother. He Avas left Avilh seven children, the youngest an infant. I have no hesitation in saying that there are few such fathers. He was invariably the same patient and afiec- tionate parent; indeed, bearing astonishingly with all the waywardness of us his children. I never saw him out of temper. ^Yhen any thing took place to hurt his feelings, his fine open countenance would be expressive of grief, never of anger. He would mildly accost the aggressor by name, and in the most tender and touching manner say, ' You little know how you have grieved your father.' He used no chas- ti.sement, but Avouid give time for reflection, and then by asking pardon, forgiveness was obtained. 1 have seen my brothers, when in the wrong, solemnly ask my father's for- giveness, as also that of others when my father desired it, after they had almost reached their full stature. It was a solemn time with us, for we all participated deeply in what- ever interfered with the tender feelings of our only parent. Perhaps there never was a family who lived more for each other than our own. Our Sabbaths, alter the harassing cares of the week, were like days spent, I luul almost said, in paradise. " The circumstances connected with my lirothcr Henry's death were such as to place it amoug tlie most heart-rending trials my dear I'ather was called to endure ; it was after our 33-i . HEY. JOHN SUJIMERFIELD. removal from Liverpool to Dublin. Henry was a fine boy of seven years ; he had been much caressed by a German cap- tain, whose vessel lay directly opposite to the house we occu- pied. The last day of his life he had dined with us, and afterwards, as we suppose, went on board this vessel, and probably leaning over the side, fell into the water and in- stantly disappeared. My father, who had been confined to the house two weeks from severe indisposition, had been through the day diligently and almost uninterruptedly em- ployed in reading the Scriptures. I had sat in the room with him during a great part of the day, and he several times expressed his gratitude at the prospect of returning health. Sometimes he would read aloud. His mind ap- peared tranquil, and his spirit sweetly drawn out in many remarks which he made on his reading. " About .six o'clock the servant called me out of the room, and informed me that Henry could not be found for his sup- per. My father hearing her report, came into the hall, and inquired, ' Jane, what is the matter?' She replied she had called Master Henry, but he could not be found. I remind- ed him that this was not uncommon ; that it was early, and that she ought to look for him. My father's look I can never forget ; he placed his eyes upon me most aflectionately, and said, 'Ellen, my love, you ivill never see Henry again.'' I seized his arm, and imploringly said, ' 0, my father, how can you say so?' He replied, 'You will never see your brother again.' " The evening became very foggy and unpleasant. My father exposed himself for upwards of three hours upon the water, in search ol' the body of his child. Many friends had collected, and joined us in entreating him to give up the search. They endeavored to inspire him with hope that the child might yet be living ; he smiled faintly, but showing him- self painfully firm to his purpose, returned to the boat he had just left, and remained until. the bat of the child was found. REMINISCENCES. . 335 " It Avas then a late hour, and veiy dark. He entered the house, and heaving a deep sigh, laid the hat on the table in the centre of the room, and looking with mournful afiTec- tion upon us, for we were greatly afflicted from the oldest to the youngest, he said, ' There is your poor brother's hat.' He endeavored to soothe us ; he told my brothers, two of whom were fond of the water, that he trusted this calamity would be to them in particular a solemn warning ; he show- ed them that their accountability, from the difference of their years, compared with that of their lost brother, was such as would have, in their case, greatly aggravated this heavy stroke. He, looking up, said, ' Shall I receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall I not receive evil ?' He observed the nurse standing in the room, and said, very kindly, 'Jane, will you send in tea?' When the tea was prepared, he said, * Come, my dear children, take your places.' He asked a blessing ; after a pause, said, ' Poor Henry's seat is vacant.' After tea was dismissed, he asked for the Bible, read and prayed as he was wont ; after which he said, ' Now, my dear children, I have to beg that you will go to bed, and compose yourselves to rest ; and God bless you.' " I have no doubt but my father passed most of the night upon his knees. I heard him in great agony, when he sup- posed all were asleep. The next morning, between four and five o'clock, I found him seated at the window of the room he had occupied the day previous, which overlooked the scene. Tiiis was the Sabbath. I could observe from his countenance as he sat, his head reclining upon his hand, that he had passed a distressing night. After anxiously watching those who were engaged in grappling for the body, he observed Avith a piercing groan, 'They have recovered my poor Henry ;' and walking to the door, waited until the body was borne in. He accompanied those who carried the lifeless form of his interesting boy, and assisted in placing it upon a table which he had ordered to be prepared. 33G REV. JOHN SUMMERFIE'LD. "I thought my father appeared soothed after he received the body. A friend calling at this time, said, ' My dear broth- er Summerfield, you are much afflicted.' He replied, 'It is a dark providence ; it is a heavy chastisement ; but I have deserved it all.' In family prayer that evening, I remarked that my father thanked God that his mind had been so pre- pared to meet this awful dispensation. " I cannot omit saying, that my father was almost preem- inent in Jtis undeviating devotion to the sacred Scriptures. His conversation had so much of the spirit of the gospel, that it was delightful to hear him. His knowledge of the Bible was truly remarkable. It mattered not to what part of the book reference was made, he was familiar Avith it. He greatly enjoyed religious conversation. In company with ministers, however eminent, or others, he would generally be among the llrst to introduce the subject of religion. He had a happy method of gliding into it, and it would inva- riably give pleasure. His familiarity with the Scriptures gave him a decided advantage in a religious discussion. His memory was very tenacious. He would refer with re- markable facility and with great accuracy to the parallel passages. His son delighted to converse with him, and to obtain his views on intricate points of Scripture. He highly valued his father's opinions; he knew that he was skilled in that 'divinity' which Luther denominated 'nothing but a grammar of the language of the Holy Ghost.' My father's habit I can from my childhood recollect was, to read and study the Bible in secret, and imicli on his knees. "His gift in prayer was also remarkable ; so varied, so copious, so scriptural, at the family altar and elsewhere; there was little or no repetition. My brother invariably gave place to his father whom he so highly revered. Even in company, when called on to pray, he vi'ould always transfer the call to his father. I never heard him pray in our family when his father was present ; but how often have I seen REMINISCENCES. 337 him weep under his father's prayers, especially on the Sab- bath morning, when he would so eloquently pray for ' the lad with his five barley loaves, who was about to go forth to feed the multitude with the bread of life.' " During my dear brother's last illness at Dr. Beekman's in New York, my father was confined to his bed at my house in Bloomingdale. Their final interview on earth was on the Sabbath, the day before my brother took his bed. For one month they were separated, which was very distressing to both. The family of necessity were divided : part in town, and part in the country. My lather's presence would have been consoling to my dying brother ; his prayers would have borne him up ; but this privilege was not granted him. " There was a brief interval of twelve weeks only, when my father was taken from us. His death was one of the most triumphant. His sufterings were greatly beyond Avhat I had hoped he would be called to pass through in the clos- ing scene. He had been a martyr to bodily suffering and infirmity for two years. The last two nights and days which he spent upon earth, little was heard from his lips but prayer — uninterrupted prayer and praise. Twenty-four hours before he ceased to breathe, friends and relatives were gathered around his bed, expecting every moment to be his last. The eye had become dim, the countenance fixed as in death, when, as if aroused fi'om sleep, on heai'ing a friend who had just arrived pleading in prayer that he might be permitted to hear from his own lips the testimony of that full assura?icc which he always hoped, should he survive my father, he might be privileged to witness ; my dear father's eye assumed a peculiar brilliancy, the first words he uttered, at the same time extending his hand to his friend, were, 'Jesus, Jesus, Jesus;' his friend said, 'is pre- cious?' He replied, 'Is precious.' My beloved parent look- ing around on his children, observed how we Mere aflected, and said, as if surprised, ' What, weeping?' — ' / will never SunuucrricM. J O 338 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD. leave thee, 7 will never forsake thee;' no, 'none shall pluck thee out of my hand.' My dear father said to his friend, 'Pray;' and afterwards he himself gave out a hymn, and sung with great spirit. He continued through the night and the following day in such a happy frame of mind, alter- nately singing and praying. Towards evening he began to sink rapidly ; he however again revived, and broke out in the night into singing, and with such energy and power of voice as to be heard through the house. He sung with ecstasy. " "Tis almost done, 'tis almost o'er,' etc. He then gradually declined, and sweetly slept in Jesus. " 'The eloquence of death' was impressed upon the face of my revered father. What a blank did4he solemn event occasion I How destitute did I feel that as a family we had become I • The prayers of my father and brother had now ceased to be offered in our behalf But when I again looked vipon that countenance radiant with a smile of holy triumph, permitted in the very article of death, I felt constrained to acknowledge that ' our loss 2vas his eternal gain' "E. B." " SuMMERFiELD HousE, Portchestcr, Oct., 1850." REMINISCENCES. 339 REV. JOHN SUMMERFIELD, BY WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. ESQ. I SAW the evangelist of God ascend The holy place. He stood in the beauty Of meekness. He spoke, and on my heart Fell accents glowing with the prophet's fire. I heard thee, mighty one ; and was afraid, Yea, trembling listened ; for methought no voice Of mortal mould could thrill my bosom thus. O, sweet as angels' music were the tones That breathed their Gilead on the wounded heart, Strengthened the weary, bade the broken come To Siloa's fountain, and in faith be whole. I wept o'er blighted hopes ; but thou didst draw, A willing captive, my admiring soul With thee to brighter regions, where the dream Of full fruition lives, nor is unreal. I feared death ; but thou didst deck the foe In lovely garb : with softest beauty clad, I saw him beckoning to the narrow house Of rest, where spicy odors balm the air. And resurrection's halo crowns the dead. God speed thee, favored one. Tiiy diadem Is wreathed of gentleness, and thick bestrewn With pearls of nature's forming : they arc tean;. Yea, tears of rapture, holy and untold. PUBLICATIONS THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY D Aubigne's History of the Reformation. A new translation, revised by the author, in four volumes 12mo, with portraits. Price §1 75, extra cloth. Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest, 12mo, in lar^e type ; also ISmo. Bunyan's ]fclgrim's Progress, 12mo, in large type, and ISmo. Both editions neatly illustrated. Memoir of Jas. Milnor, D. D. Mason's Spiritual Treasury, for every day in the year. Terse, pithy, and evan- gelical. Flavel's Fountain of Life, or Redemption provided. Flavel's Method of Grace, or Redemption applied to the Souls of Men. Flavel's Knocking at the Door; a tender, practical appeal. Bishop Hall's Scripture History, or Con- templations on tlie Historical Passages of the Old and New Testaments. Bishop Hopkins on the Ten Command- ments. Two standard works of the times of Baxter. President Edwards' Thoughts on Revi- vals. Venn's Complete Duty of Blan. Owen on Forjjiveness, or Psalm 130. Gregory's (Olinthus, LL.D.) Evidences of Christianity. Paley's Natural Theology. Dr. Spring's Bible not of l\Ian, or the Argu ■ ment for the Divine Origin of the Scrip- tures drawn from the Scriptures them selves. Nelson's Cause and Cure of Infidelity. Memoir of Mrs. Isabella Graham. A new and standard edition. Memoir of Mrs. Sarah L. Huntington Smith. Sacred Songs for Family and Social "Wor- ship. Hymns and Tunes — with a sepa- rate edition in patent notes. Also, the Hymns separately. Elegant Narratives, Select Tracts, illus- trated. Willison's Afflicted Man's Companion. Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. Edwards' History of Redemption. Volume on Infidelity, comprising five standard treatises : Soame Jenyns on the Internal Evidence ; Leslie's Method with Deists; Lyttelton's Conversion of Paul; "Watson's Reply to Gibbon and Paine. Pike's Persuasives to Early Piety. Pike's Guide to Young Disciples. Anecdotes for the Family and the Social Circle. Universalism not of God. Dibble's Thoughts on Missions. The Bible True. ELEGANT PRACTICAL WORKS. "Wilberforce's Practical View. Hannah More's Practical Piety. James' Anxious Inquirer. Elijah the Tishbite. Nevins' Practical Thoughts. Melvill's Bible Thoughts, selected by the late Rev. Dr. Milnor. Harris' Mammon. Gumey's Love to God. Foster's Appeal to the YoMng. Abbott's Young Christian. Abbott's Mother at Home. Abbott's Child at Home. James' Young Man from Home. CHRISTIAN MEMOIRS. J^"-. Claudius Buchanan, LL.D., includ- ing his Christian Researches in Asia. Rev John Newton. Rov. Henry Martyn. Fi'V. David Brainerd. ! ... " iward Payson, D. D. Harriet L. "Winslow, Missionary in In- dia. James Brainerd Taylor. Harlan Page. Normand Smith. Richard Baxter. Archbishop Leighton. Matthew Henry. Rev. Samuel Peaice. Rev. Samuel Kilpin. OTHER SPIRITUAL WORKS. Edwards on the Affections. Baxter's Call to the Unconverted. Alleme's Alarm to the Unconverted. Plavel's Touchstone. Flavel on Keeping the Heart HelfFenstein's Self-Deception. Sherman's Guide to an Acquaintance with God. Pike's Religion and Eternal Life Baxter's Dying Thoughts. Matthew Henry on Meekness. Andrew Fuller's Backslider. Scudder's Redeemer's Last Command Scudder's Appeal to Mothers. Burder's Sermons to the Aged. MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. Bogue's Evidences of Christianity. Keith's Evidence of Prophecy. Morison's Counsels to Young Men. The Reformation in Europe. Nevins' Thoughts on Popery. Spirit of Popery, [with 12 engravings.] The Colporteur and Roman Catholic. Mason on Self-Knowledge. Sherman's Guide to an Acquaintano* with God. Divine Law of Beneficence. Zaccheus, or Scriptural Plan of Benevo lence. Hymns for Social Worship. POCKET MANUALS. Clarke's Scripture Promises. The Book of Psalms. The Book of Proverbs. Daily Scripture Expositor. Ten Commandments Explained. Bean and Venn's Advice to a Married Couple. Hymns for Infant Minds. Reasons of Repose. Daily Food for Christians. Chaplet of Flowers. Heavenly Manna. Cecil and Flavel's Gift for Moumeis Daily Texts. Diary, [Daily Texts interleaved.] Crumbs from the Master's Table. Milk for Babes. Dew-Drops. BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG. MAUT OF THEM BEATTTIFirLLT ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS. Gallaudet's Scripture Biography, 7 vols., from Adam to David. Gallaudet's Youth's Book of Natural The- ology. Peep of Day. Line upon Line. Precept upon Precept. Anzonetta R. Peters. The Night of Toil. Legh Richmond's Letters and Counsels. Advice to a Young Christian. Madam Rumpff and Duchess de Broglie. Charles H. Porter. Missionary's Daughter. Scudder's Tales about the Heathen. Amelia, the Pastor's Daughter. Trees, Fruits, and Flowers of the Bible, [9 cuts.] Elizabeth Bales. By John Angell James. Nathan W. Dickerman. Grace Harriet. Children Invited to Christ. Narratives of Pious Children. The Dairyman's Daughter, etc. Charles L. Winslow. Withered Branch Revived. Peet's Scripture Lessons. Child's Book of Bible Stories. Children of the Bible. Amos Armfield, or the Leather-covered Bible. The Child's Hymn-Book. Selected by Miss Caulkins. Scripture Animals, [16 cuts.] Letters to Little Children, [13 cuts.] Great Truths in Simple Words. Clementine Cuvier. Rolls Plumbe. Pictorial Tract Primer. Watts' Divine and Moral Songs. With numerous similar works. Dr. Edwards' Sabbath Manual, Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. Dr. Edwards' Temperance Manual. In Geeman — 40 vols, various sizes. In French — 12 volumes. ALSO, In Welsh — Pilgrim's Progress, Baxter's Saints' Rest and Call, Anxious Inquirer, History of Redemption. In Danish — Doddridge's Rise and Progress, Baxter's Saints' Rest and Call. Also upwards of 1,000 Tracts and Children's Tracts, separate, bound, or in packets. adapted for convenient sale by merchants and traders, many of them with beautiful engravings— in English, German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, and Welsh. [j;^ It is the design of the Society to issue all its publications in good type, for the poor as well as the rich ; and to sell them, as nearly as may be, at cost, that the Society may neither sustain loss nor make a profit by all its sales. I ^liil^ii- UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY JXos Angeles This book is F ^i the last date stamped below. Form L9-2r>»(-9,'47(A5618)J44 ITHtRN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 'X Holland - ^4.2^ IvIfiTnoir s of th e- 95H7 life and minis- ti^ - of the,^e^.-. 000 728 695 8 fohn Slimmer fie Id. I ^P' BX 8495 S95H7