REV. JAMES HERVEY, M.A., THE LITERARY PARISH-PRIEST. (continued 3)

Hervey visited the metropolis, and, on his return to Weston-Favel, had a near escape from an untimely death. He writes:—

“August 2. Very early on Wednesday morning, I set out for Northampton, in a new machine, called The Berlin; which holds four passengers, is drawn by a pair of horses, and driven in the manner of a post-chaise. On this side Newport, we came up with a stage-coach, and made an attempt to pass it. This the coachman perceiving, mended his pace; which provoked the driver of the Berlin to do the same, till they both lashed their horses into a full career; and were more like running a race, than conveying passengers. We very narrowly escaped falling foul on each other’s wheels. I called out to the fellows; but to no purpose. Within the space of a minute or two, what I apprehended happened. My vehicle was overturned, and thrown with great violence on the ground. The coachman was tossed off his box, and lay bleeding in the road. There was only one person in the coach, and none but myself in the Berlin; yet, neither of us (so tender was the care of Divine Providence!) sustained any considerable hurt. I received only a slight bruise, and had the skin razed from my leg, where I might too reasonably have feared the misfortune of broken bones, dislocated limbs, or a fractured skull.”

Hervey was now instituted, by the Bishop of Peterborough, in his second living, and opened his commission, among his new parishioners, by preaching from the text,—“To me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that, I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ.” He also sent to the press his “Remarks on Lord Bolingbroke’s Letters,” which, in the month of November, were published. He solicited Lady Frances Shirley to favour him with the criticisms of her friends; and, on December 5, 1752, wrote to her as follows:—

“I am much obliged to your Ladyship for taking the trouble of transmitting the sentiments of your critical acquaintance. If I live to write another letter, I will return my opinion with relation to them. This is designedly short; to correspond with my weak state of health. For I am again confined; though, blessed be God! not ‘in durance vile,’ I preached on Sunday; and renewed my cold; so that this morning I have lost my voice. What a dying life is mine! Every blast pierces me, and every cold crushes me. Blessed, for ever blessed be God! for a better life and happier state in the heavens. Where we shall be languid no more; and be ungrateful to Jesus no more; and sin against God no more.”

To another friend, a few days later, he wrote:—

“December 14, 1752.—Your approbation of anything in my ‘Remarks,’ will give me singular satisfaction; yet, I should be no less obliged for your free thoughts, on what should have been added, expunged, or altered. Point out my blemishes, and supply my defects. Applause may be more soothing to my vanity; but such kind corrections will be more pleasing to my judgment, and more serviceable to our common cause. It is scarce probable, that, a second edition should be published, as the first was numerous; but, if there should be such a demand, I am sure, your animadversions would enrich and ennoble it. As an author, I would aim, singly aim at the glory of my Divine Master, and the furtherance of His everlasting Gospel. Nevertheless, I would, by no means, neglect the recommendations of a graceful composition. I would be glad to have the apples of gold, which are the truths of our holy religion, set in pictures of silver. Generally speaking, human nature must be pleased, in order to be profited. The wisest of men ‘sought and found out acceptable words,’ even when that which was written, was the truth of God.”

In these extracts, the reader may find the reasons why Hervey became a pluralist. The thing cannot be commended; but, perhaps, in his case, it may be pardoned. He himself disliked it; but the circumstances of his widowed mother and fatherless sister, the importunity of his relatives, and the advice of his friends, overcame his righteous repugnance. At one time, he seems to have entertained the idea of giving one of the livings to his friend Dr. Stonehouse;[204] but this was abandoned; and Hervey placed himself in the extremely objectionable position of holding two ecclesiastical benefices instead of only one. It is true, that, the united populations of Weston-Favel and Collingtree were not more than about six hundred souls; and that the income of the two livings was only about £180 a year; but the question is, was it absolutely wrong, in every case, to become a pluralist? If it was not, Hervey was excusable, for, though £180 then was worth more than £600 now, the presentation to the two benefices was his own hereditary property, and, subject to the law of the land, he had a right to do as he liked with it. Still, the being a pluralist was an ugly fact. Churches have always objected to it. Even as early as the thirteenth century, at the Lateran council, holding more than one benefice was expressly forbidden, by a canon, under the penalty of deprivation; the same canon, however, granting the pope a power to dispense with it in favour of persons of distinguished merit. The practical result was, there were so many found with a title to this merit, that the prohibition became useless. In this way, the holding of more benefices than one, became legal; and such was the existing state of things in the time of Hervey. The law of the land created difficulties; but they were far from being insuperable. Two certificates had to be obtained from the bishop of the Diocese, one for the Archbishop, and the other for the Lord Chancellor. Testimonials, also, had to be procured, from the neighbouring clergy, concerning the presentee’s behaviour and conversation. He must also exhibit to the Archbishop, not only his letters of order of deacon and priest, but also a certificate of his having taken the degree of Master of Arts at the least, in one of the Universities of the realm. These and other preliminaries had to be observed; after which, if the Archbishop was satisfied, the dispensation was granted (not by the pope as in former days, but), by the Faculty Office; it was then confirmed under the broad seal of the Lord Chancellor; and, finally, the affair was completed, by an application to the bishop of the diocese where the living was situated, for the presentee’s admission and institution into his second cure of souls. Hervey had to pass through the whole of this worrying process; and, beside other expenses, had to pay a stamp duty of £30 for every skin, or paper, or parchment, on which his dispensation was engrossed. No wonder, that, he speaks of it as having cost him “six score pounds.” For five hundred years, or more, plurality of benefices had been an ecclesiastical disgrace; and, though, perhaps, permissible in a case like Hervey’s, it adds no lustre to his fame, and was not obtainable without handsome fees to the highest authorities of the English Church and State.

There is another fact, belonging to this period of Hervey’s history, too curious to be omitted. Every one knows, that, Whitefield believed, that, the keeping of slaves was sanctioned by the Scriptures; that, hot countries could not be cultivated without negroes; and, that, the lives of numbers of white people had been destroyed in Georgia, and large amounts of money wasted, for want of negro labour. Holding such principles, Whitefield, in 1751, bought a number of slaves, partly to cultivate the land attached to his Orphan House, in Georgia: and partly to instruct them, and to make them Christians.[205] Strange to say, the gentle Hervey approved of this procedure; and having, during his residence in London, largely shared in Whitefield’s hospitality, he gave to him, as a souvenir on leaving,—what? A slave! Hence the following:—

“When you please to demand, my brother will pay you £30, for the purchase of a Negro. And may the Lord Jesus Christ give you, or rather take for Himself, the precious soul of the poor slave!”

Whitefield readily acquiesced. His answer, referring to other matters as well as this, was as follows:—

“London, June 9, 1752.

“My very dear Friend,—I have received and read your manuscripts;[206] but for me to play the critic upon them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, before I leave town, I will just mark a few places as you desire, and then send the manuscripts to your brother. I foretell their fate: nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without showing some resentment against its artful murderer.

“You are resolved not to die in my debt. I think to call your intended purchase Weston, and shall take care to remind him by whose means he was brought under the everlasting Gospel.

“O that Doctor Stonehouse may be brought out to preach it! If you do not take the other living” (Collingtree) “yourself, I think your giving it to the Doctor is a glorious scheme.

“Your brother has been so kind as to let me have the little mare again. My Master walked,—I ride, to preach the glorious Gospel. Whether riding or walking, Lord Jesus, let my whole heart be taken up with Thee!

“Adieu, my dearest sir, adieu. Cease not to pray for

“Ever yours whilst

“George Whitefield.”

One other letter from Whitefield may fitly close the year 1752. Whitefield had read Hervey’s “Remarks on Bolingbroke,” and now wished him to publish his “Theron and Aspasio.”

“London, November 14, 1752.

“My very dear Friend,—”God will bless you for vindicating the honour of His sacred volumes in your last pamphlet, for which, as for all other unmerited favours, I most heartily thank you. I have just now read it, and doubt not of its being greatly blessed and owned, and going through many editions. I cannot discern any errata or inaccuracies in the composition. Surely, God hath raised my dear friend up, to let the polite world see how amiable are the doctrines of the Gospel. Why will you weary the world, and your friends, by delaying to publish your other long wished-for performance.[207] I shall be glad to peruse any of the Dialogues. The savour of the last is not of my mind. Pray let them see the light this winter. They will delight and warm many a heart.

“My dear, very dear friend, good-night. My kind respects await your mother and sister. My wife, who is quite an invalid, joins heartily with me, who am, my very dear sir, yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“George Whitefield.”

Though so feeble and delicate, Hervey tried to preach twice every Sunday. His ministry also was popular and attractive, his churches being crowded to excess, and the windows sometimes removed, that, the people outside might hear. His style was familiar, and adapted to the congregations to whom he preached; and, of course, his sentiments were Calvinistical. “You have observed,” said he, about this period of his history, “the walls on either side of the path leading to this church. They are covered, as you know, with ivy. Now, you may pluck off the leaves, and break off the branches, so that none of them shall be seen on the outside; but the roots of the plant have so worked themselves into the wall, that, it would be impossible entirely to eradicate them without taking down the wall, and not leaving one stone upon another. And so must this frail body be taken down; and then, and not till then, shall we get rid of the remains of a degenerate nature.”[208]

Hervey’s metaphor was striking; but metaphors are not arguments.

To employ his own expressions, Hervey began the year 1753 in “ill-health and weak spirits, which cramped his mind, and unnerved his hand.” He was “sadly indisposed; languid and dispirited; out of humour with himself, and displeased with his own thoughts.”

His “Theron and Aspasio” was now the chief and almost only occupation of his leisure hours. A part of the work was sent to Whitefield for revisal. Hence the following:—

“London, January 27, 1753.

“My very dear Friend,—I thank you a thousand times for the trouble you have been at, in revising my poor compositions, which, I am afraid, you have not treated with becoming severity.

“How many pardons shall I ask for mangling, and, I fear, murdering your dear ‘Theron and Aspasio?’ You will see by Monday’s coach; which will bring a parcel directed for you. It contains one of your ‘Dialogues,’ and two more of my sermons; which I do not like very well myself, and, therefore, shall not wonder if you dislike them. If you think they will do for the public, pray return them immediately, because the other two go to the press next Monday. I have nothing to comfort me but this, ‘that the Lord chooses the weak things of this world to confound the strong; and things, that are not, to bring to nought things that are. I think to sell all four sermons for sixpence. I write for the poor; you for the polite and noble. God will assuredly own and bless what you write.

“As yet, I have only had time to peruse one of your sweet ‘Dialogues.’ As fast as possible, I shall read the rest. I am more than paid for my trouble by reading them.

“The Lord be with your dear heart! Continue to pray for me. The Lord be with us! Grace! Grace!

“I am, dearest sir, in very great haste, but greater love,

“Yours, etc.,

“George Whitefield.”

Doddridge was dead, and beyond the reach of consultation; but Hervey now became acquainted with another eminent dissenter,—John Ryland, the well-known Baptist minister,—who became the intimate friend of the Rector of Weston-Favel, and one of his most trusted advisers. In a letter, dated “February 3, 1753,” Hervey sent to Ryland a rough outline of his “Theron and Aspasio,” and said,

“My piece is, as yet, only in embryo. Will you, dear sir, contribute your assistance to ripen the design, and bring it to the birth? With this view, I send you my four first dialogues. They are very incorrect, and shamefully blotted.[209] The first fault your pen will mend; the second your candour will excuse. But, instead of making any more apologies, give me leave to lay before you a plan of the whole scheme,” etc.[210]

Hervey was almost fastidious in his literary tastes; and, hence, his habit of asking his friends to revise his manuscripts previous to their being printed. There can be no question, that, he went further, in this respect, than he need have done. Whitefield was a glorious evangelist; but made no pretensions to being a man of letters. Ryland was a strong-minded man; but not an accomplished scribe. The Countess of Huntingdon, in some respects, was one of the most remarkable women that ever lived; but polite literature was not the orbit in which she shone. And, yet, Hervey sought “friendly corrections” from the coroneted lady as well as from the great itinerant, and the Baptist minister. Hence, the following:—

“Your ladyship is pleased to express a wish, that, I should proceed, without delay, in finishing my intended work. Be assured, your wishes, madam, have all the force of a command with me. I send you the first four ‘Dialogues,’ beseeching you to peruse them, not with the partiality of a friend, but the severity of a critic. The like request I have made of others, and have received their friendly corrections. I am deeply sensible of my own deficiencies, and, in order, therefore, to render my work, if possible, fit for public view—meet for the Master’s use, I shall feel obliged by any corrections or improvements, which your pen may make. Your ladyship is at liberty to show the manuscript to whom you please. Your remarks, and those of your friends, may supply the sterility of my invention, and the poverty of my language. If you really approve of what I have sketched, I shall be encouraged to proceed in my work. May I not hope for the honour of dedicating it to your ladyship? It would give me singular pleasure to have any work of my pen patronised by the Countess of Huntingdon.”[211]

Lady Huntingdon sympathized with the design of Hervey’s book; claimed the assistance of all those whom she considered capable of suggesting improvements and useful hints; and transmitted their observations to the author; but declined the offered dedication. Hervey writes:—

“July 14, 1753.

“Madam,—Accept my thanks, for taking the trouble of perusing my very imperfect manuscript, and my grateful acknowledgments, for the improving touches and remarks you have made, as well as for those of your highly valuable friends and acquaintances. The corrections will be exceedingly beneficial to the work, and render it more acceptable to the public in general. But, I confess, I feel disappointed at your ladyship’s declining to patronise the public attempt of my pen; nevertheless, your observations are so sensible and just, that, I cannot think of pressing the matter on your attention, further than to solicit your prayers for the success of the undertaking, and for the unworthy author.”[212]

Writing, on the same subject, to Mr. Ryland, Hervey says:—

“Weston-Favel, March 17, 1753.

“My dear Friend,—I thank you, for the trouble of perusing my very imperfect manuscripts; and I desire Mr. Medley to accept my very grateful acknowledgments for the improving remarks he has made. I beg of him to proceed, and to use the same kind of severity with the other sketches. I am sensible, the pointing is inaccurate; and shall be much obliged for every correction in this particular. It will be no less beneficial to my piece, if he pleases to make free use of the pruning knife. Prolixity, upon such a subject, will infallibly create disgust, especially with the polite, for whose perusal and whose service, I would wish my attempt was properly calculated. I don’t pretend, nor indeed do I wish, to write one new truth. The utmost of my aim is, to represent old doctrines in a pleasing light, and dress them in a fashionable or genteel manner.”[213]

Such extracts as these are not without interest. They show, that, Hervey, unlike his friends Wesley and Whitefield, wrote not so much for the masses of the people as for the educated and genteel; and, that, he was intensely anxious to have his publications, in a literary point of view, as perfect as possible.

It was in May, 1752, that, Hervey, in broken health, succeeded his father as Rector of Weston-Favel. Twelve months afterwards, he was called upon to preach, at the visitation of the Archdeacon of Peterborough, in All Saints Church, Northampton. Writing to Lady Frances Shirley, he says,—

“1753, May 10. I am now setting out for Northampton, where I am to preach the visitation sermon. I know not how I shall speak, so as to be heard, in that very large and lofty church. May the Lord God Omnipotent make His strength perfect, in my extreme weakness. O! for the eloquence of an Apollos, and the fervour of a Boanerges! I am quite ashamed of my poor, jejune, spiritless, composition; and I am no less ashamed of my unbelief, that, I dare not trust God for utterance; but, before an audience that is critical, forsooth must use my notes.”

Hervey’s text, on this occasion, was, “God forbid, that, I should glory,” etc. (Gal. vi. 14); and the sermon was the first he published. Though not remarkable for either learning or argument, it was thoroughly evangelical and faithful; and, unless the belief and practice of the clergy there assembled were exceptional, it must have been somewhat startling. It was the sermon of a Methodist; and Methodist sermons then were seldom heard in the Established Church.

Preaching it was a duty; publishing it was an act of charity. Hence the following:—

“1753, May 19. I have lately been somewhat busied in preparing a sermon to be preached before the clergy, at our Archdeacon’s visitation; and, to my weak nerves and languid spirits, a little business is a toil. A commentator, with whom I wish you may long be unacquainted, has taught me the meaning of Solomon’s description, ‘The grasshopper shall be a burden.’ The sermon, though perfectly plain and artless, is in the press. It is printed for the relief of a poor afflicted child, as a short advertisement will inform the world. The person, to whose management it is consigned, has given orders for an impression of two thousand; besides a hundred and fifty, which I have bespoken for myself.”

Printed sermons have seldom been popular; but the adventure, in this instance, succeeded. “I have no business going forward with the printer,” wrote Hervey, in a letter to Lady Frances Shirley, on July 15, 1753.

“My last little essay would have remained in the obscurity of shorthand, if the father of the afflicted youth had not importuned me to send my sermon on a begging errand. I gave it him as a kind of lottery ticket, not without some hopes and many prayers, that it might meet with success, and come up a prize. Nor have I reason to repent; for, though he printed two thousand, he tells me they are almost all sold.”

An extract from another letter may be welcome. It refers, not only to this visitation sermon, but to Hervey’s parochial labours.

“Weston-Favel, October 28, 1753.

“I have, this afternoon, been preaching to a crowded audience. You would be surprised, and, I believe, every body wonders that I am able to officiate for myself. I am so weak that I can hardly walk to the end of my parish, though a small one; and so tender, that I dare not visit my poor neighbours, for fear of catching cold in their bleak houses. Yet, I am enabled, on the Lord’s-day, to catechise, and expound to my children in the morning, and to preach in the afternoon. Every Wednesday evening (hay-time and harvest only excepted) I read prayers, and give them a lecture-sermon in Weston church. This is the Lord’s doing, or, as your favourite book expresses it, this is owing to ‘the good hand of my God upon me.’

“God has been pleased to pity the poor youth, for whose relief the visitation-sermon, I preached at Northampton, was printed. An edition of two thousand is disposed of; and the manager, for the distressed object, is venturing upon another edition. See, dear sir, if God will bless, who can blast? If He will further, what can obstruct? A feather, a straw, if He pleases to command, shall be a polished shaft in His quiver. Trust not, therefore, in eloquence or argument, in depth of thought or beauty of style, all of which are confessedly wanting in the present case; but ‘trust ye in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.’”

Another glimpse of Hervey, in the midst of his rustic congregations, is furnished by a letter written by one of Whitefield’s preachers.

“Last Sabbath-day, I rode to hear Mr. Hervey at Collingtree; and, to my great surprise as well as satisfaction, having never seen such a thing before in prayer-time, instead of singing psalms, they sung two of Dr. Watts’ hymns, the clerk giving them out line by line. After prayer, without going out of the desk, the minister put off his surplice, and expounded the Second Lesson of the day. And then, without going up into the pulpit, he read Ephesians v. 25-27, and spoke from them very sweetly and clearly. He expounds every Wednesday night, at the same church; preaches twice on the Sabbath; catechizes the children; and meets some people on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in or near the parish where his father preached.”[214]

There was no high-church ritualism here; but a godly pastor making himself at home among his poor parishioners, and simply and earnestly trying to promote the spiritual and eternal welfare of them and of their children.

In his enfeebled health, the wonder is how Hervey managed to undertake so many of these rural services. And yet, while thus faithfully discharging his duties as a parish priest, he was, if not an extensive reader, a most diligent student of the holy Bible, and a conscientious cultivator of literary æsthetics. Wesley, when an old man, remarked,—

“I could even now write as floridly and rhetorically as even the admired Dr. R⸺; but, I dare not, because I seek the honour that cometh of God only. What is the praise of men to me, that have one foot in the grave, and am stepping into the land whence I shall not return. Therefore I dare no more write in a fine style than wear a fine coat. But were it otherwise, had I time to spare, I should still write as I do. I should purposely decline, what many admire, a highly ornamental style. I cannot admire French oratory; I despise it from my heart.”

It was otherwise with Hervey. Of set purpose, he cultivated the “fine style” of writing. Wesley wrote for the masses; Hervey for the élite of human society.

“My writings,” said he, “are not fit for ordinary people; I never give them to such persons, and dissuade this class of men from procuring them. O that they may be of some service to the more refined part of the world!”[215]

Wesley and Hervey were equally conscientious; and opinions will differ concerning the wisdom of their different decisions; though all will probably admit, that, if Wesley’s writings had less of scholastic learning, sonorousness, and rhythm, they had vastly more point and power than those of his old Oxford friend. Still, both acted from the purest motive; and it is in such a light that their respective merits should be judged. In a letter to a friend, dated, “Weston-Favel, August 18, 1753,” Hervey writes:—

“I wish you had taken minutes of what you saw most remarkable in your tour through Westmoreland and Cumberland. Described in your language, and embellished with your imagination, an account of these counties might be highly pleasing to all; and, grafted with religious improvements, might be equally edifying. Such kind of writings suit the present taste. We don’t love close thinking. That is most likely to win our approbation, which extenuates the fancy, without fatiguing the attention. Since this is the disposition of the age, let us endeavour to catch men by guile; turn even a foible to their advantage; and bait the gospel hook agreeably to the prevailing taste. In this sense, ‘become all things to all men.’”

Hervey was now possessed of a large and varied library; but, like Wesley, he was, to a great extent, “homo unius libri.”

“My library,” says he, “is composed of the books collected by my father and grandfather; among which there are multitudes, that I shall continue a stranger to as long as I live, though they stand at my right hand and my left every day. I want to be better acquainted with God’s holy word; to have its inestimable truths lodged in my memory, its heavenly doctrines impressed upon my heart; that my tempers may take their fashion from it; that my private conversation may be seasoned with it; and my public ministrations enriched by it. Thus, dear sir, may the word of Christ dwell in us richly! I am, what people would call, a moderate Calvinist; but, I assure you, I can bear, I shall delight to have, my notions sifted; nor am I so attached to any favourite scheme, but I can readily relinquish it, when Scripture and reason convince me it is wrong.”

Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,”—by far the greatest work of his short life,—was now nearly completed; and his time was chiefly occupied in putting it through the press. All kinds of friends were consulted; and their revisions and emendations solicited. The book was too bulky, and yet Hervey was at his wits’ end to make it less. Postage of proof-sheets was heavy; and compositors and printers were dilatory to a most worrying extent. The year throughout was a trying one, especially to a valetudinarian like Hervey. Brief extracts from his letters will best illustrate what we mean.

“1754, May 4.” Writing to Mr. Ryland, Hervey says,—

“My bookseller tells me, it will be impossible to comprise my essay in less than three volumes of the ‘Meditations’ size. It is much against my inclination to exceed the quantity of two volumes; but, I believe, I must submit, or else we shall cramp the design, and mutilate the plan.”[216]

“May 20. I send two or three manuscripts, and beg of you to exercise the same frankness of admiration, and the same impartiality of censure upon them. My bookseller tells me, it cannot be comprised in less than three volumes. I have always had an aversion to so diffusive a work. Many will not have ability to purchase them; many not have leisure to read them; and to some, I fear, the very sight of three volumes would be like loads of meat to a squeamish stomach. Yet, I cannot contract the work, without omitting those parts which are intended to entertain the reader, keep him in good humour, and allure or bribe him to go on. What would you advise? I send ‘Letters,’ eight, nine, ten, and eleven; and ‘Dialogues,’ fifteen and seventeen. Do, my dear sir, improve, polish, and enrich them. I am, this day, a prisoner in my chamber, and write in much pain. Blessed be God for that world, where all tears will be wiped away from our eyes, and there will be no more pain.”

“May 30. I send herewith four of my ‘Dialogues,’ which I beg of you to examine with a kind severity. I do assure you, I can bear to receive censure from a friend, and will kiss the lips that administer it, especially when it is intended to preserve my attempts to further the glorious gospel from the contempt of the public. I will, ere long, send you, in a frank, a general view of my plan, which, in the execution, is become too prolix, and cannot be comprehended in less than three volumes, unless some judicious friend will help me to curtail and abridge. I am very unwilling to publish a work consisting of three volumes; I apprehend this will obstruct the sale not a little.”

“June 1.” In a letter to Lady Frances Shirley, Hervey writes,—

“May I promise myself the benefit of your opinion concerning the publication of three volumes? As you know the taste and temper of the polite world, I should be much obliged for your advice. And I beg you will not flatter my vanity; but, if you think, that three volumes on a religious subject will be insupportable, be so kind as to tell me plainly. I would fain write what may be acceptable, in order to write what may be useful; and, for my own part, I really am afraid, that, so large a work will be less likely to subserve such a design.”

In another letter, to the same lady, a fortnight afterwards, Hervey wrote:—

“June 16. I have still another scruple, which respects not the gay and splendid world, but the mean and penurious. I would gladly have my books in those hands, which hold the plough, and ply the distaff, because these persons are as nearly related to the all-creating God, and as highly beloved by the ever-blessed Jesus, as those who wear a crown, or wield a sceptre. But these will hardly be able to purchase three volumes. I thank your ladyship for your kind offer, in reference to the princess; but my work is so far from being ready to come abroad, that, it is not yet in the press. The necessary preliminaries, one of which is the number of the volumes, are not settled; though, as to this particular, I begin to be pretty well satisfied.”

“June 21. Before this arrives, I hope my ‘Dialogues’ will have received the free correction, and the friendly improvement of your pen. As, through my many and repeated infirmities, I had long discontinued and have often intermitted my intended work, I am informed, from London, that the abettors of the Socinian scheme have been pleased to triumph in my disappointment; imagining that, through fear or inability, I had laid aside my design, and insinuating, that, I had changed my principles, or was conscious of the weakness of my cause. From these gentlemen, if my essay should appear in public, it may expect a severe examination, and probably a violent attack. I hope your friendship will anticipate their inveteracy, and remove those blemishes, which might give them a handle for censure, or a ground for insult. What is your opinion, as to publishing three volumes? Mr. Moses Brown and another friend pronounce in the affirmative, though I am much afraid that this circumstance will clog the sale. There are several pieces that are a kind of excursion from the principal subject, calculated to relieve and entertain the reader, yet not without administering some spiritual benefit. A whole ‘Dialogue’ upon the wisdom, power, and goodness, displayed in the contrivance and formation of the human body. Two or three ‘Letters,’ pointing out the traces of the same grand and amiable attributes in the constitution of the earth, the air, and the ocean. These I am afraid to lop off, lest it should be like wiping the bloom from the plum, or taking the gold from the gingerbread. To you I say gingerbread, though I would not say so to the public, for I really think the taste of the present age is somewhat like the humour of children: their milk must be sugared, their wine spiced, and their necessary food garnished with flowers, and enriched with sweetmeats.”

“July 8. I have had my bookseller’s opinion with relation to the number of copies proper to be printed, at which I am somewhat surprised, and must desire your advice. He says 5000 in small, and 750 in large, octavo. To this I have some objections. In the first place, the sale of such a prodigious quantity cannot be but hazardous, though, I must confess, I have no reason to distrust the goodness of that over-ruling Providence, to which I would humbly ascribe the acceptance of a preceding essay. This scruple, therefore, shall be set aside. But what think you of the following consideration? Errors and weaknesses, if such a number be printed at once, may never be corrected; whereas, if we publish half the proposed number, and a second edition is demanded, there may be an opportunity of correcting mistakes, and re-touching inaccuracies. May I not hope to receive a few hints for a Preface, in which I am advised to declare, that, it is my firm resolution to enter no farther into the controversy? with this view, that, in case the doctrines are attacked, other and abler champions may see a clear stage for their entrance.”[217]

“July 13. Here are six ‘Dialogues.’ May God enable you to search them, as with a candle, and make them such as He will condescend to bless! I have dropped several objections and answers; yet, I fear, too many are still retained. A multiplicity of objects dissipates the attention either of the eye or mind. Are, what the painters call, the two unities preserved? one principal action and one grand point of view in each piece? Does Theron speak enough, or with such weight, and such a spice of the sal Atticus, as might suit his character? Here and there, a touch of wit or genteel satire in him, I think, would be grateful, especially in the first part, before he is brought to a conviction of his guilt?” “You can scarcely imagine what a demand there is for the book, even before publication. It makes me rejoice with trembling. I now feel the loss of our valuable friend, Dr. Doddridge, to whose judgment I ever paid the highest deference. I expect you will tell me my manuscript is very prolix; but I designedly made it so, that my friends may judge what is proper to be omitted. It is easier you know, to expunge than to compose. I wish they would, with a leaden pencil, enclose in a parenthesis what they would have dropped. I hope to retrench one-fourth of the copy.”

September 28. I have to request the honour of your name, to dignify and recommend my book, which has been, for a considerable time, committed to the press. It will, I believe, be entitled ‘Theron and Aspasio; or, a Series of Dialogues and Letters, upon the most Important and Interesting Subjects.’ The whole will constitute three volumes. It will, I apprehend, make its appearance about the time appointed for the meeting of the Parliament; and I know no person whose name will give the author more satisfaction, or be a higher recommendation to his performance, than your ladyship’s.“[218]

“November 24. You have highly obliged me, in permitting me to grace my work with your name. I have been, ever since I received your ladyship’s letter, engaged to keep no less than eight hands constantly employed in printing, which has taken up all my time. Be so kind, madam, as to favour me with your advice, whether I should present the book to the princess.[219] I must, I apprehend, present it to the prince’s preceptor,[220] because he is our diocesan, and treated me in a very genteel manner, when I received institution from him. This is the last frank I have. Could you, Madam, accommodate me with a fresh supply? At this juncture a few of those vehicles would be very welcome and serviceable.”[221]

Again, a few days later, to the same lady, Hervey wrote:—

“To grant my request was obliging; to grant it so speedily was like yourself. My hands are still tied by the business of the press. You can hardly imagine what obstructions and mistakes happen in the process of such a work, especially when the author is at a distance from the press. I take it for granted your ladyship approves of my presenting the piece to the princess, but would you have me attempt to put it into the hands of the prince?[222] I question whether the bishop would think it a proper book for his royal highness’s collection. I dare say Mr. Stone[223] (who, I am told, is the principal director of the prince’s conduct), would banish it, not for a term of years, but, for ever; and not to the American colonies, but to the country of the Hottentots. I dare not expect that the bishop himself will like it; but, perhaps, he will dislike my practice, if I do not pay him the compliment. When he gave us a charge, at his last visitation, he inveighed against enthusiasm on the one hand, and profaneness on the other; and some of our reverend brethren took notice, that, when delivering himself on the former topic, he frequently threw his eye upon my friend Hartley and me. However, this I must say, he wrote me a very handsome letter, when I presented him with the ‘Remarks on Lord Bolingbroke;’ and, in a private letter, which I happened to see, expressed no disapprobation concerning the ‘Meditations.’”

“December 26. I have a fresh obligation to your ladyship for procuring me the opinion of good Dr. Hales.[224] I cannot but be pleased with his approbation; but I cannot persuade myself, that, the bishop will undertake to present the books, or even consent to his royal pupil’s reading them. In case he should present them, who knows in what manner he may do it? Suppose he should shrug his shoulders, and say, ‘An ambitious and conceited clergyman of his diocese, by the importunity of request, in a manner, forced him upon this office. How ungraceful would the affair appear, and how unsuitable to decorum of conduct! Upon the whole, I am in a state of real perplexity. I would not seem to slight the Doctor’s opinion, much less reject his solicitation; yet, I cannot prevail upon myself to think, that, to execute the proposal would be the propriety of action. I hope, madam, you will give me your free advice, and help to extricate me from this embarrassment, into which yourself, yes, you yourself, have led me. For I should never have been known to such grand personages, if you had not condescended to introduce me. My name had never been heard by a royal ear, if it had not received some credit by your ladyship’s notice.”[225]

These extracts might be multiplied; but the reader has had sufficient for the purpose of showing the almost extreme assiduity of Hervey in making his book correct and popular. Among others, he consulted his old friend Wesley, who revised the first three “Dialogues,” and “sent them back with a few inconsiderable corrections.” Hervey replied, “You are not my friend, if you do not take more liberty with me.” Wesley promised, that, he would; upon which the manuscripts were again revised; and alterations were made of a more important character.[226] Whether Wesley, on this occasion, had used the prerogatives of a friend to a greater extent than Hervey liked, is a matter which has never been explained; but it is quite certain, that, when Hervey’s work was nearly ready for the public, Hervey and Wesley, by some means, had become alienated, and were no longer the warm-hearted friends they had been in former days. Writing to Lady Frances Shirley, under the date of January 9, 1755, Hervey says,—

“Mr. John Wesley takes me very roundly to task, on the score of predestination; at which I am much surprised. Because a reader, ten times less penetrating than he is, may easily see, that, this doctrine (be it true or false) makes no part of my scheme; never comes under consideration; is purposely and carefully avoided. I cannot but fear he has some sinister design. Put the wolf’s skin on the sheep, and the flock will shun him, the dogs will worry him. I do not charge such an artifice, but sometimes I cannot help forming a suspicion.”

This is a mournful episode. From letters, already printed in the foregoing pages, it is manifest, that, Hervey, at one period, held Wesley in the highest affection and esteem; and, that, this was mutual is evident from the fact, that, as recently as the year 1754, not only had Hervey twice over requested Wesley to revise his “Theron and Aspasio,” but, Wesley (at the time an invalid like Hervey) had requested his friend to revise his “Notes on the New Testament.” Hence the following:—

“Weston-Favel, June 29, 1754.

“Dear Sir,—I have read your ‘Notes,’ and have returned them by the Northampton carrier, and transmitted such observations as occur to my mind. I think, in general, you are too sparing of your remarks and improvements. Many expositions are too corpulent; your’s are rather too lean. May the good hand of the Lord be with them and with their author! ‘Bengelius’ is likewise returned, with thanks for the use of that valuable book. Please to present my affectionate respects to Mr. Charles, and desire him, if he has done with ‘Vitringa,’ to send it by the same conveyance as brings your parcel. Let me beg to be remembered in your prayers, and in his, that, I may not dishonour the relation of, dear sir, your brother and friend in Christ,

“James Hervey.”[227]

The two old Oxford friends were now estranged; and, mournful to relate, their friendship was not renewed till they met in heaven. But more of this anon.

Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio” was advertised to be published on February 18, 1755; but he writes, “there are so many unexpected remoras, that, I dare not answer for its forthcoming, even at the expiration of ten days more.”

A copy of the “large octavo edition” is before us, in three volumes; pp. 405, 464, and 446; with a dedication, as already intimated, “to the Right Honourable Lady Frances Shirley.”[228] The following is a copy of “the Contents”:—

“Dialogue I. Character of the speakers.—On improving conversation.—Elegance and dignity of the Scriptures.

“Dialogue II. Walk through the gardens.—The beautiful frame and beneficial ordination of things.—Preparatory discourse on the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness.—Meaning of the terms settled.

“Dialogue III. Walk through a meadow.—Doctrine of Christ’s satisfaction stated.—Considered as a Redemption Price, and as a Sacrifice for sin.—Variously typified under the Mosaic dispensation.

“Dialogue IV. Park and romantic mount.—Christ’s death further considered, as the very punishment which our sins deserved.—Objections, ancient and modern, answered.—The whole summed up and improved.

“Dialogue V. Elegant arbour in the flower-garden.—Imputation of Christ’s obedience.—Objections from reason canvassed.

“Dialogue VI. Gallery of pictures.—Library and its furniture.—A sordid taste in painting censured; a more graceful manner displayed.—Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness resumed.—Objections from Scripture urged and refuted.

“Dialogue VII. Hay-making.—Pleasures of nature freely enjoyed.—Blessings of grace bestowed with equal freeness.—Theron’s plan of acceptance with God; consists of sincerity, repentance, and good works, recommended by the merits of Christ.—This shown to be a false foundation.—No such thing as a good work, till we are accepted through the Redeemer.

“Dialogue VIII. Duelling.—Animadversions on the practice.—Spirituality and extent of the Divine law.—Infinite purity of God.

“Dialogue IX. Curious summer-house.—No relaxation of the Divine law, as to the precept or the penalty.—Its inflexible strictness, and principal ends.

“Dialogue X. Theron’s last effort to demolish the evangelical scheme of justification.—Among other objections, more plausible and refined than the preceding, he strenuously insists, that, faith is our righteousness.—Review of the whole.

“Dialogue XI. Ruins of Babylon.—Fine passage from Mr. Howe.—Depravity and ruin of human nature, as they are represented in Scripture.—Applied, with a view to determine the yet dubious inquiry.

“Dialogue XII. Extremely hot day.—A solemn shady bower.—True method of deriving benefit from the classics.—The wonderful structure and economy of the human body.

“Dialogue XIII. Walk upon the terrace.—Depravity of human nature, laid open and proved from experience.—Uses of the doctrine, and its subserviency to the grand point.

“Dialogue XIV. Theron alone in the fields.—His soliloquy on the charms of rural nature.—His reflections on the past conferences.—Aspasio reinforces his arguments for the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness.—Recommends self-examination, the keeping of a diary, and prayer for the enlightening Spirit.—Departs, under an engagement to correspond by letter.

“Letter I. Aspasio opens the correspondence with some important articles of duty; designed to facilitate self-examination, and promote conviction of sin.

“Letter II. Theron, convinced of the iniquity of his life, and the evil of his heart, sees the necessity of a better righteousness than his own.—Desires a further explanation, and a fuller proof of the doctrine under debate.

“Letter III. Aspasio proves the point—from the Liturgy—the Articles—the Homilies of the Church of England—and the writings of the Fathers.

“Letter IV. Aspasio re-establishes the tenet, from the Scriptures of the Old Testament.

“Letter V. Aspasio relates a remarkable panic.—Terrors of the day of judgment.—Christ’s Righteousness and its Imputation, largely demonstrated from the New Testament.

“Letter VI. Theron takes a cursory view of the habitable creation.—Traces the perfections of nature through the earth, air, and fire.—Admirable construction, and advantageous effects, of these elements.

“Letter VII. Aspasio takes occasion to display the no less admirable perfection of Christ’s Righteousness.—Its Principle—Extent—Perseverance.

“Letter VIII. Aspasio describes a drought.—Majesty and beauty of the sun, after a night of rain.—The meritorious excellency of Christ’s Righteousness illustrated, from the magnificence of His works, and the divinity of His person.

“Letter IX. Theron’s account of the western cliffs—the wonders of the ocean—and the benefits of navigation.

“Letter X. Aspasio enumerates the much richer benefits resulting from the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness.—Shows their happy influence, on holiness of heart, and obedience of life.

“Letter XI. Aspasio exemplifies the last particular; in two very memorable instances.—Especially in the conduct of Abraham offering up his son Isaac.

“Letter XII. Aspasio touches upon union with Christ.—How described in Scripture.—Its blessed and glorious effects.

“Dialogue XV. Aspasio revisits Theron.—Theron under anxiety of spirit.—Partly to entertain, partly to comfort his friend, Aspasio enlarges upon the bounty of the Creator, visible both in the animal and vegetable world.—The new convert is slow of heart to believe.—Evangelical motives to faith.

“Dialogue XVI. Harvest scene.—Philenor’s gardens.—Statues.—Grove of evergreens.—Nature of true faith.—Its sure foundation, and sovereign supports.

“Dialogue XVII. A river voyage.—The diversified prospect.—Comparative happiness.—Advantages of peace.—A celebration of the Gospel and its blessings, in a kind of rhapsody.—Christ’s Righteousness applied, to every case of distress, and every time of need.”

Such is Hervey’s own correct outline of his work. As the reader will easily perceive, the book is a mixture of theological teaching and scenic painting, the latter being used, as Hervey himself states, “to soften the asperities of argument.” His “views of nature” are employed, not as being essential to the truths which he wished to teach, but rather, to grace his book with ornament, and to render it more readable. Whether this ought to be regarded as an excellence or a blemish, Hervey leaves his readers to determine. He writes,—

“The author confesses a very peculiar fondness for the amiable scenes of creation. It is, therefore, not at all improbable, but his excursions on this topic may be of the diffusive kind, and his descriptions somewhat luxuriant. It is hoped, however, that, the benevolent reader will indulge him in this favourite foible.”

Hervey’s work was one of great importance. Of his “luxuriant descriptions” nothing need be said, except, that, many of them are quite equal to those in his “Meditations and Contemplations.”[229] Nearly all of them, however, might have been entirely omitted without at all interfering with the principal doctrines which it was the object of Hervey to teach and vindicate. They are excrescences, though beautiful,—oases in a doctrinal arena. To many of Hervey’s readers, they would be the most attractive sections of his book; to others, only intent on pursuing and mastering the author’s argument, they would be embellished barriers, and would be skipped.

To Hervey’s doctrines, considered as a whole, orthodox Christians can take no exception. Wesley observed with perfect justness, “Most of the grand truths of Christianity are herein explained and proved with great strength and clearness.”[230] The crux criticorum was Hervey’s peculiar views of what he called “the imputed righteousness of Christ.” A few brief extracts will show what he meant.

“Aspasio. Justification is an act of God Almighty’s grace; whereby He acquits His people from guilt, and accounts them righteous; for the sake of Christ’s righteousness, which was wrought out for them, and is imputed to them.

“Theron. Two of your terms want some further explication. What do you understand by Christ’s righteousness? And what is the meaning of imputed?

“Aspasio. By Christ’s righteousness, I understand, all the various instances of His active and passive obedience; springing from the perfect holiness of His heart; continued through the whole progress of His life; and extending to the very last pang of His death. By the word imputed, I would signify, that, this righteousness, though performed by our Lord, is placed to our account; is reckoned or adjudged by God as our own. Insomuch, that we may plead it, and rely on it, for the pardon of our sins; for adoption into His family; and for the enjoyment of life eternal.”

Again: Aspasio says,—

“The nature of justification, and the nature of condemnation are two opposites, which will mutually illustrate each other. What is implied in the condemnation of a sinner? He forfeits eternal life, and is doomed to eternal death. What is included in the justification of a sinner? It supersedes his obligation to punishment, and invests him with a title to happiness. In order to the first, there must be a remission of sins. In order to the second, an imputation of righteousness. Both which are derived from Christ’s mediation on our behalf; and both take place, when we are united to that Divine Head.”

Theron answers,—

“This, I know, is the fine-spun theory of your systematic divines. But where is their warrant from Scripture? By what authority do they introduce such subtle distinctions?”

“Aspasio. I cannot think the distinction so subtle, or the theory so finely spun. To be released from the damnatory sentence, is one thing; to be treated as a righteous person, is evidently another. Absalom was pardoned, when he received a permission to remove from Geshur, and dwell at Jerusalem. But this was very different from the re-commencement of filial duty, and parental endearment. A rebel may be exempted from the capital punishment, which his traitorous practices deserve; without being restored to the dignity of his former state, or the rights of a loyal subject. In Christianity likewise, to be freed from the charge of guilt, and to be regarded as a righteous person, are two several blessings; really distinct in themselves, and often distinguished in Scripture.”

Instances being adduced in proof of this, Aspasio continues,

“Let me produce one text more,—‘I send thee to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; that, they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in Me’ (Acts xxvi. 18). Here Christ distinguishes between remission of sins, and the inheritance of the saints; between the pardon that delivers from hell, and the justification that entitles to heaven. So that the former does by no means constitute the latter; but is connected with it, as a link in the same sacred chain; or included in it, as part of the same glorious whole.

“Theron. Admitting your distinction to be just, is not the satisfaction, made by the death of Christ, sufficient of itself to obtain, both our full pardon, and our final happiness?

“Aspasio. Since my friend has started the question, I may venture, with all reverence to the divine counsels, to answer in the negative; it being necessary, that, the Redeemer of man should obey, as well as suffer, in their stead” (John x. 18; Matt. iii. 15; Rom. v. 17). “It should be considered, Whether Christ’s sufferings were a complete satisfaction of the law? Complete they were with regard to the penalty, not with regard to the precept. A distinction obvious and important. From whence arises the following argument; which, for once, you will allow me to propose in the logical form. By what alone the law was not satisfied; by that alone sinners could not be justified: By Christ’s sufferings alone, the law was not satisfied. Therefore, by Christ’s sufferings alone, sinners could not be justified. But when we join the active with the passive obedience of our Lord,—the efficacy of the one, with the perfection of the other,—how does our justification stand firm, in the fullest sense of the word! We have all that the law demands, both for our exemption from the curse, and as a title to the blessing.

“Theron. But if we are justified by Christ’s fulfilling the law, we are justified by works. So that, before you can strike out such a way of salvation, you must contradict yourself; and, what is more adventurous, you must abolish that fundamental principle of the Gospel; ‘By the works of the law, shall no flesh be justified.’

“Aspasio. I grant it, Theron. We are justified by works. But whose? The works of Christ, not our own. And this is very far from contradicting ourselves; equally far is it from abolishing, what you call the Gospel-principle. Between the covenant of works, and the covenant of grace, this, I apprehend, is the difference: By the former, man was indispensably bound to obey, in his own person. By the latter, the obedience of his surety is accepted, instead of his own. The righteousness required by both, is, not sincere, but complete; not proportioned to the abilities of fallen man, but to the purity of the law, and the majesty of the Lawgiver. By this means, the glory of God as an awful sovereign, and the glory of His law as an inviolable system, are entirely preserved and illustriously displayed. The salvation of sinners, neither clashes with the truth, nor interferes with the justice of the supreme Legislator. On the contrary, it becomes a faithful and just procedure of the most High God, to justify him that believeth on Jesus.

“Theron. Farewell then to our own obedience. No more occasion for any holiness of life. Fine divinity truly! Should I not rather say? Downright Antinomianism!

“Aspasio. No, my friend; Christ came not to destroy the law, but to fulfil. He has fulfilled it to the very uttermost, in His own person. He has also merited for us, and conveys to us, those supplies of the Spirit, which alone can enable us to yield faithful and acceptable obedience.

“Theron. My principal objection is not satisfied. I was observing, that, according to your manner of stating the affair, salvation is no longer free, but founded upon works. They are the works of the law, though Christ performs them. To maintain that we are justified by these works, is to confound the difference between the law and the Gospel.

“Aspasio. Though we should admit your premises, we cannot acquiesce in your conclusion. The same righteousness, by which we are justified, is both legal and evangelical. Legal, in respect to Christ, who was made under the law, that He might obey all its commands. Evangelical, in respect to us, who work not ourselves, but believe in the great fulfiller of all righteousness. We are justified by works, if you look forward to our Surety. We are justified without works, if you cast a retrospective view on ourselves. The grand reason, which inclines some people to reject this comfortable doctrine, lies concealed, if not in an absolute disbelief of our Lord’s eternal glory and Godhead, yet, in unsettled apprehensions of it, or an habitual inattention to it. If our Saviour was not really God, it would be a reasonable practice to disavow the imputation of His righteousness. Because, upon such a supposition, His obedience was no more than bounden duty; in which there could not be the least pretence to merit, and which could be profitable to none but Himself. Whereas, if we verily believe Him to be the Incarnate God, His submission to the law becomes an act of voluntary humiliation. Which circumstance, together with the transcendent dignity of His person, renders His obedience, not meritorious only, but inexpressibly and infinitely meritorious.

“Theron. But if Christ’s righteousness, His very righteousness, be imputed; then, the true believers are altogether as righteous as Christ Himself. Whereas, if you maintain, that, His righteousness is imputed only as to its effect, you will keep clear of this rock.

“Aspasio. This, I fear, will be like keeping clear of Scylla, only to fall foul upon Charybdis. What are the effects of the Mediator’s righteousness? Pardon of sin, justification of our persons, and the sanctification of our nature. Shall we say, these effects, these benefits, are imputed? To talk of their imputation, I think, is an affront to sound sense. All these benefits are not imputed, but imparted; they are not reckoned to us, but are really enjoyed by us. Yet it does by no means follow, that believers are altogether as righteous, as Christ; unless you can prove, that, to be the receiver is, in all respects, the same, as to be the Author and Finisher. The righteousness of Christ arises solely from Himself; the source of ours subsists in another. Christ’s righteousness is originally and absolutely His own; whereas, it is made ours in a way of favour, and gracious imputation.”

“Theron. But if Christ’s perfect obedience be accounted ours, me-thinks, we should have no more need of pardoning mercy than Christ Himself.

“Aspasio. Yes; because before this imputation, we were sunk in guilt, and dead in sins. Because, after it, we are defective in our duty, and in many things offend.

“Theron. Does not this doctrine render the intercession of our Saviour superfluous? What occasion have they for an advocate with the Father, whose righteousness has neither blemish nor imperfection?

“Aspasio. They stand in need of an advocate, first, that they may be brought home to the Repairer of their breaches, and made partakers of His righteousness by a living faith. Next, that their faith may be preserved, notwithstanding all opposition, steadfast and immovable; or rather, may be carried on, victorious and triumphant, to the end.

“Theron. You say, ‘Christ performed all that was conditionary’; then He repented for us, and believed for us.

“Aspasio. Christ performed whatever was required by the covenant of works, both before it was violated, and after it had been transgressed. But neither repentance nor faith was comprehended in this institution. It was not therefore necessary, neither indeed was it possible, for our spotless and Divine Lord to repent of sin, or believe in a Saviour.

“Theron. However, from what you have advanced, this will unavoidably follow—That a man is to be justified, under the character of a notorious transgressor of the law; and justified under the character of a sinless observer of the law. And what is this, but a glaring inconsistency?

“Aspasio. Not at all inconsistent, but absolutely needful, if we consider those distinct branches of the Divine law, the preceptive and the penal. Both which, in case of guilt already contracted, must necessarily be satisfied. Not at all inconsistent, if we take in the two constituent parts of justification, the acquittance from guilt, and a title to life. The former supposes us to be transgressors of the law; and such the highest saints in the world are. The latter requires us to be observers of the law; and such must the inheritors of heaven be. Much less is this inconsistent, if we consider believers in their personal and relative capacity; as they are in themselves, and as they are in their Surety. Notorious transgressors in themselves, they have a sinless obedience in Christ. The consciousness of that, will be an everlasting motive to humility; the belief of this, an inexhaustible source of joy.”

In these extracts, the reader has, in Hervey’s own words, a full account of his doctrine of the imputed righteousness of Christ. All must admit, his fairness in the putting of Theron’s objections; most will doubt his successfulness in answering them. His theory, that, the death of Christ bought the sinner’s pardon, and the righteousness of Christ procured for the sinner the privileges and rights of justification; or, to speak more precisely, of adoption into the family of God, was a speculative distinction, without Scriptural authority, and pregnant with antinomian heresy. He meant well; but he missed the mark. Wesley was right, when he said,—

“‘The imputed righteousness of Christ’ is a phrase not scriptural. It has done immense hurt. I have had abundant proof, that the frequent use of this unnecessary phrase, instead of ‘furthering men’s progress in vital holiness,’ has made them satisfied without any holiness at all; yea, and encouraged them to work all uncleanness with greediness.”[231]

Hervey’s book created great commotion. It was both attacked and defended; and was turned to good purpose and to bad. Sandeman, in his “Letters on Theron and Aspasio,”[232] both approved and disapproved. Cudworth, a dissenting minister, in his reply to Sandeman,[233] was a warm defender of his friend, the Church of England rector. Dr. Witherspoon, “Minister of the Gospel in Beith,” published a pamphlet of 72 pages, in 1756, to show, that Hervey’s doctrine of justification, by imputed righteousness, does not weaken the obligations to holiness of life. Besides these, other pamphlets were issued, on both sides of the dispute; but the only one which Hervey himself answered, was a tract by his old friend Wesley. This will be noticed hereafter. Meanwhile, a selection from Hervey’s voluminous correspondence will furnish the reader with glimpses of this period of Hervey’s history.

Lady Frances Shirley had given him a hint, that some one wished to make a present to the author of “Theron and Aspasio.” He replied:—

“Weston-Favel, February 23, 1755.

“My thirst after books is very much allayed. I have bid adieu to the curious and entertaining inventions of wit, or discoveries of science. My principal attention is now devoted to the sacred oracles of inspiration. These I should be glad to have in their noblest form and highest perfection; and, I find, there is now published a very fine edition of the Hebrew Scriptures, by Father Houbigant. Such a present would be singularly acceptable, and, I hope, it would be beneficial. I do not know the price: though, I fear, it will be costly; as it consists of four tomes in folio, and as Hebrew printing is uncommonly expensive.”[234]

The next refers to the same subject, and to his being thanked for a copy of his “Theron and Aspasio,” by Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales.

“March 1. If what I mentioned be an improper proposal, you will have such a kind regard to the unadvised writer, as to stifle and suppress his project. My heart is not set on that or any other book. As I have the Bible in its pure and sacred original, I can dispense with the circumstance of a grand and pompous form.

“I have received a very friendly letter from the bishop; and Dr. Hales has transmitted to me the thanks of her royal highness. Alas, madam! what good does this do me? Or, if I were presented to a deanery, what service would that do me when I stand at the great tribunal? Blessed Jesus, let not my poor endeavours be rewarded with such chaff! Be Thou glorified; let souls be edified; and then they who read, and he who wrote, may one day rejoice together.”

The demand for Hervey’s book was such, that, though the first edition consisted of nearly six thousand copies, a second edition was almost immediately required. He writes to the Rev. John Ryland:—

“March 8. We have begun another edition, and ventured to print three thousand. Any remarks and improvements will be extremely welcome; but they must be communicated soon, otherwise, perhaps, they cannot take place; for it was proposed to begin upon each volume at once; and proceed, by means of several hands, and several presses, with great expedition.

“The Princess of Wales, and my other noble friends, were pleased to receive my books, in a very candid and obliging manner.”[235]

Seven days later, he wrote again:—

“March 15. The author of the London Magazine has taken notice of ‘Theron and Aspasio,’ and, really, in a very respectful and honourable manner. My sentence in the Gentleman’s Magazine is respited till next month. I know not whether the Monthly Review has taken me to task; but this I know, that, if God be for us, it matters not who is against us.”[236]

Hervey perceived his book would be attacked on the ground, that, his doctrine of the imputed righteousness of Christ led to Antinomianism; and he already entertained the idea of writing another work as a sort of appendix to his former one. Under the date of March 19, 1755, he observes:—

“I proposed to have closed the plan of ‘Theron and Aspasio’ with an explicit and pretty copious treatise on evangelical holiness or obedience; and to have shown my true believer in his dying moments. If your thoughts should happen to take such a turn, be so good as to suggest what you think the most advisable and advantageous way of managing this important point. This would most effectually stop the mouths of Arminians, and be the best security against the abuses of Antinomians. I could wish, if it were the Lord’s will, that I might live to furnish out one more volume of this kind.”

The sale of “Theron and Aspasio” proceeded with such rapidity, that, the second edition was made larger than Hervey and his publisher had originally agreed. Hence the following:—

“April 5. Our new edition goes on at a great rate. They have finished very near half of each volume: and my publisher, presuming that I should have no objection, took the liberty of making the edition consist of 4,000, instead of 3,000, on which we had agreed. I suppose he was prompted to do this, by finding a call for the piece.”[237]

In revising the work for this second edition, he earnestly asked the help, not only of John Ryland, the Baptist minister, but of William Cudworth, the minister of an Independent congregation, in Margaret Street, London. To the latter, he wrote as follows:—

“April 22. The doctrine, which you approve in my essay, and have clearly displayed and fully proved in your own writings, is not relished by everybody; no, not by many pious people. I take the liberty to send you a couple of letters containing objections.[238] I wish you would be so kind as to consider them, and, in your concise way, which I much admire, to make your remarks upon them. I am not shaken in my opinion by these attacks; but I should be glad to deliver it more clearly, and establish it more firmly, in another edition.

“I heartily wish you success in your projected work.[239] I assure you, it is my opinion, that, such a book, if well executed, will be one of the most valuable services to the present age. You will not, I hope, be too hasty. Mr. Wesley has huddled over his performance[240] in a most precipitate, and, therefore, most imperfect manner. One would think, his aim was, not to select the best and noblest passages, but to reprint those which came first to hand.”

Cudworth responded to the request of Hervey; and the two henceforward became ardently attached and confiding friends. This, if it did not actually create, widened the breach between Hervey and his old adviser, Wesley. Ten years before, Wesley and Cudworth had come into collision, by Wesley’s publication of his two Dialogues “between an Antinomian and his friend;” partly written in answer to a “Dialogue” which Cudworth himself had published. Wesley, rightly or wrongly, accounted Cudworth an Antinomian, and spoke of him with a severity which he seldom used. Cudworth resented this; angry feelings were engendered; and, beyond a doubt, Hervey’s affection and respect for Wesley were lamentably abated.

The year 1755 was a crisis in the history of the Societies, which had been founded by the labours of Wesley and his itinerant evangelists. At a Conference, held at Leeds, three days were spent in discussing the momentous question, whether the Methodists should separate from the Established Church. It was on this occasion, that, Charles Wesley composed and published his famous poetical “Epistle” to his brother. Hervey heard of this, and wrote as follows:—

“1755, July 5. I have just now read advertised in the magazine, the following book, ‘An Epistle from Charles Wesley to John Wesley.’ Has your ladyship seen or heard of it? If you have, be so good as to inform me of the design and contents. I hope, there is no hostility commenced between the brothers. I have no connection, nor correspondence with them, but should be sorry for such an event.”[241]

Hervey had ceased to write to Wesley; but Wesley wrote to him. Hence the following:—

“Weston, August, 1755.

“Pray return Mr. Wesley’s letter. I find, by private intelligence, that, he has shown it in London; and has thought proper to animadvert upon me, by name, from his pulpit. I am inclined to take no notice either of his preaching or his writing.

“My good friend, Mr. Whitefield, is now at my house. He purposes to lift up his voice at Northampton, and proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”[242]

Did Hervey get his “private intelligence” from Whitefield? Probably he did. It is a curious fact, that, at this very time, there was a misunderstanding between Wesley and Whitefield, respecting Methodist affairs at Norwich;[243] and, though there was no breach of friendship, it is not at all unlikely, that, this and cognate matters would be the subject of conversation at the meeting which Hervey mentions.

Whitefield was at Weston-Favel on August 30; and here he wrote several letters, remarking in one of them:—“Mr. Hervey is now writing another volume, upon Sanctification.” This, of course, was the work which has been already named; but which was never published. Ten days after Whitefield’s visit, Hervey described his plan, in a long letter, from which the following is an extract:—

“Weston-Favel, September 10, 1755.

“My dear Friend,—I esteem your letters as treasures. Though I destroy almost all I receive, every one of yours is preserved.

“The grasshopper is a burden to me. Every blast blows me down, or my continual indisposition and inconceivable languors pierce through me. I now hang a swelled face over my paper; occasioned only by taking the air yesterday in my chair, and finding a sharper atmosphere, than for many weeks I had been accustomed to. Pray for me, dear sir, that, established in Christ, and strong in His faith, I may be looking for, and hasting to the coming of the day of God; when this poor, enervated, crazy body, will be made like unto Christ’s glorious body.

“I live with my mother and sister. Our method is, every morning at nine, when we breakfast, to read a verse or two from the Bible, and make it the subject of our conversation,” etc., etc.

“I desire your opinion concerning the plan of my new work; which, with a weak hand and desponding heart, I have sketched out, though with very little hope of being enabled to execute.

“The Plan of the Supplement to Theron and Aspasio.

“Pleasure and happiness of Christ’s religion (for I am of the same mind with Mr. Marshall, in his Treatise on Sanctification, namely, that, we must partake of the comforts of the Gospel, before we can practise the duties of the law).—Theron oppressed with fears, on account of his numerous sins.—Discouraged with doubts on account of his imperfect obedience.—The cordials of the Gospel re-administered, with some additional spirit and strength.—Objections to assurance of faith, stated, discussed, answered.—Vital holiness; its nature, necessity, excellency.—Its grand efficient, the blessed Spirit.—Its principal instrument, true faith; mixed with which, the Scriptures, the Lord’s Supper, prayer, the divine promises, are powerful and effectual means; disunited from which, they are a dead letter and insignificant ordinances.—The evangelical principles of holiness, such as, ‘I beseech you by the mercies of God’; ‘Ye are bought with a price’; ‘Ye are the temples of the living God’; etc.—All these privileges, though not hereditary, yet indefeasible; or the final perseverance of the believer.—Our friends part; renew their correspondence; Theron desires to glorify the God of his salvation, asks advice concerning the best method of family worship, educating children, instructing servants, edifying acquaintance.—On each of these particulars, Aspasio satisfies his inquiry, enlarges on the subject of education, especially of daughters; as that seems to be the most neglected, or the proper way of conducting it least understood.—Letter on the covenant of grace, comprising the substance, and being a kind of recapitulation, of the three foregoing volumes.—Aspasio seized with a sudden and fatal illness; his sentiments and behaviour in his last moments.

“If, dear sir, you see anything in this plan, that is improper; anything that is defective, supply it; and if any thoughts occur on any of the topics, be so kind as to suggest them.”

Hervey, certainly, had great encouragement to continue the employment of his pen. The first edition of “Theron and Aspasio,” as already stated, consisted of nearly six thousand copies; and the second of four thousand; and yet, within nine months from the time when the work was first published, a third edition issued from the press.

No wonder, that, the book obtained the attention of Hervey’s old friend, Wesley. The first three of the Dialogues had been submitted to him, in manuscript, for his revision, and he had sent “some important alterations.” Now he read the whole of Hervey’s work, not only once, but twice, and says, “I wrote him my thoughts freely, but received no answer.” This was probably the letter which Hervey mentions, in one of the foregoing pages, under the date of “August, 1755.” In a little more than a year afterwards, Wesley wrote again; and this letter, he himself subsequently published; though, he says,—

“At the time I wrote, I had not the least thought of making it public. I only spoke my private thoughts, in a free, open manner, to a friend dear as a brother,—I had almost said, to a pupil,—to a son; for so near I still accounted him.”

No doubt this second letter contained the substance of the former one. There is much in Hervey’s book which Wesley heartily commends: the chief points of animadversion are two. (1) He begs that Hervey will lay aside the phrase “the imputed righteousness of Christ,” adding, “it is not scriptural, it is not necessary, it has done immense hurt.” Unprejudiced readers must allow that this position is impregnable. Many of Wesley’s critiques are so brief as to be almost blunt, but they serve to show that Hervey’s interpretation of scriptural texts, in support of his favourite idea of the Imputed Righteousness of Christ is, in many instances, at least, arbitrary and incorrect; and, in all instances, insufficient for his purpose. To this part of Wesley’s letter no exception ought to have been taken. True, it destroys the pivot on which the whole of Hervey’s book is made to turn; but all that is said is relevant, and there is nothing that is disrespectful. Wesley’s remarks were pointed, but not intended to be impolite. (2) The other section of Wesley’s criticisms, while correct in sentiment, are perhaps hardly pertinent Hervey, to some extent, was undoubtedly a Calvinist; but he never taught, or held the doctrines of unconditional election and reprobation. Remembering this, Wesley was scarcely fair in such comments as the following:—

“‘The righteousness wrought out by Jesus Christ is wrought out for all His people, to be the cause of their justification, and the purchase of their salvation. The righteousness is the cause, and the purchase.’ So the death of Christ is not so much as named! ‘For all His people.’ But what becomes of all other people? They must invariably perish for ever. The die was cast or ever they were in being. The doctrine to pass them by has—

“I could sooner be a Turk, a deist, yea, an atheist, than I could believe this. It is less absurd to deny the very existence of God, than to make Him an almighty tyrant.

“‘The whole world and all its seasons are rich with our Creator’s goodness. His tender mercies are over all His works.’ Are they over the bulk of mankind? Where is His goodness to the non-elect? How are His tender mercies over them? His temporal blessings are given to them. But are they blessings to them at all? Are they not all curses? Does not God know they are? that, they will only increase their damnation? Does He not design they should? And this you call goodness! This is tender mercy!

“‘May we not discern pregnant proofs of goodness in each individual object?’ No; on your scheme, not a spark of it, in this world or the next, to the far greater part of the work of His hands.

“‘This is His tender complaint, They will not come unto me!’ Nay, that is not the case; they cannot. He Himself has decreed not to give them that grace without which their coming is impossible.

“‘The grand end which God proposes in all His favourable dispensations to fallen man is to demonstrate the sovereignty of His grace.’ Not so: to impart happiness to His creatures is His grand end herein. Barely to demonstrate His sovereignty is a principle of action fit for the Great Turk, not the Most High God.”

If Hervey had taught the doctrines of ultra-Calvinism, such strictures, though strongly worded, would not have been unjust. But the question is, did Hervey hold the tenets of unconditional election and reprobation? If he did, Wesley was not unfair; if otherwise, Wesley’s remarks are not applicable. Hervey probably clung to the doctrine of election; and, it may be said, this inevitably involves the doctrine of reprobation; but there is no evidence that Hervey regarded it in such a light. On this subject, the man must be allowed to be his own exponent. In a letter, written to Lady Frances Shirley, immediately after Wesley had sent him his criticisms on “Theron and Aspasio,” Hervey observes:—

“Weston, November 25, 1755.

“There is, doubtless, abundance to be said against Predestination. And abundance has been said, with great force of argument, for its support, and that by men of the most eminent learning and exalted piety. As this is the case, and as it is not necessary to faith and salvation either that we should embrace or that we should reject the doctrine, I think we may prudently and safely acquiesce in the advice of a great scholar and a great saint: ‘Let a man go to the grammar-school of faith and holiness before he enters the university of election and predestination,’ I am at the grammar-school; and there, perhaps, I shall continue, till I hear the voice from heaven, saying, ‘Come up hither, and I will show thee what thou couldest not comprehend in the regions below. Madam, shall I have the honour of your ladyship for a form-fellow? You shall be the head-scholar; only be content to allow us your company, and do not leave us for a higher class. Let us study the glories of Christ’s person, and the love of His heart; let us contemplate His infinite satisfaction and everlasting righteousness. May the knowledge of these grand doctrines be revealed in our hearts by the blessed Spirit! May the faith of these unspeakable privileges comfort our souls, purify our affections, and work by love! Then we shall, ere long, see every dark, mysterious point cleared up to our full satisfaction. We shall see, without a veil, the shining and adorable perfections of our God. We shall know His unsearchable counsels and wonderful ways, even as we are known.

“In the meantime, I would beg leave to decline all controversy. I can very freely converse or correspond with persons who either adopt or discard Predestination; provided, they will not drag in the litigated proposition, and force me to engage in disputation. But, if they are determined to obtrude the bone of contention, I had much rather remain alone and in silence; for, I readily confess, that I am not master of the subject. Therefore it would be very unadvised in me to undertake either its establishment or refutation.

“I believe, I must desire your ladyship to return this letter, with your free remarks upon it, because I do not know but I shall be obliged to explain myself on this subject before the public. Because a person,[244] who makes a great figure in the religious world, has sent me some critical remarks and pretty keen censures on my late work, but inveighs particularly against my predestination principles; at which I am somewhat surprised, because I have (whatever my sentiments are) studiously avoided this peculiarity; I have but barely mentioned it, in the apostle’s own words; only in an incidental manner; and without explaining, enlarging upon, or inculcating it.”

On receiving Wesley’s letter, Hervey wrote to his friend Ryland as follows:—

“1756, November 29. Herewith, you have the grand attack from Mr. Wesley, of which I apprised you some time ago. Examine it closely; return it speedily; and, if you please, confute it effectually; demolish the battery, and spike up the cannon. I have not answered in any shape, and, when I do answer with my pen, I propose nothing more than a general acknowledgment, and an inquiry, whether he proposes to print his animadversions.”

Wesley’s strictures were printed in 1758; and till then we must leave the subject.

The only pieces published by Hervey in 1756, were a “Recommendatory Letter,” prefixed to his favourite book, “Marshall’s Gospel Mystery of Sanctification”; and a “Preface” to “Jenks’s Meditations,” the latter of which was reprinted, in two volumes, by Hervey’s expressed desire.[245] Besides these, however, he preached three sermons, which he subsequently committed to the press, with the titles,—“The Time of Danger;” “The Means of Safety” and “The Way of Holiness.”[246]

Hervey’s published sermons are few in number, principally because the sermons he preached were never written.

“I have never,” said he, “since I was minister at Weston, used written notes; so that all my public Discourses are vanished into air; unless the blessed Spirit has left any traces of them, on the hearts of the hearers. And, though I have many Discourses, that were written before I discontinued the use of notes, they are all penned in short-hand, and are intelligible to none but the writer. I sometimes speak to my people an hour together; but I always blame myself for it. It detains the congregation too long. It renders the Discourse tiresome to be heard, and almost impossible to be remembered. This is one of the inconveniences attending the extempore method of preaching. We forget how the time passes away.”[247]

The reason, why he wrote and published the three sermons above mentioned, he states in a letter to Lady Frances Shirley,—

“I am inclined,” said he, “to print two or three Sermons, preached on the late Fast-Days. These, for some particular reason, I happened to take down in short-hand. As I have seen no Discourses, on this occasion, that were sufficiently evangelical, I have a strong desire, for the supply of this one defect only, to appear on the stage.” “Here,” he observed to Mr. Ryland, “I shall make a sacrifice of all my reputation (if I ever had any), with the elegant and polite; and let it go, freely let it go, if any honour may redound to the Lord our Righteousness.”

At the time, England was at war with France; and many of the sermons preached on the day of national humiliation were published; but Hervey was not satisfied. He writes:—

“The author pretends to nothing refined or extraordinary; he affects neither brilliant thought, nor polished style; equally remote from nice criticism and profound learning, his Discourses are studiously plain, and brought down to the level of the meanest capacity. ‘What then is his motive?’ This is the very truth. In several of the sermons, published on this occasion, the one thing needful seems to be overlooked. Christ and His free grace,—Christ and His great salvation,—are either totally omitted, or but slightly touched. Till these doctrines are generally inculcated, the most eloquent harangues from the pulpit, or the most correct dissertations from the press, will be no better than a pointless arrow, and a broken bow.”

Space forbids giving an outline of Hervey’s sermons.[248] Suffice it to say, that, they are able and eloquent, and intensely earnest and faithful. If such were a fair specimen of his pulpit performances, Hervey’s preaching must have been as remarkable as his writings; and, had he possessed Whitefield’s voice and elocution, the effects would have been something marvellous. Mr. Ryland, who visited him at Weston-Favel twice a year, observes,—

“He loved simplicity in his manner of preaching. He had no complicated and perplexed conceptions; no crowd of thoughts to overwhelm his own understanding, or the conceptions of his hearers. In all his sermons, you might discern a clear and easy arrangement; nothing tedious; no long-winded periods; no perplexing parentheses; no tiresome circumlocutions; but everything adapted to the weakest memory of his auditors. He despised and avoided all boisterous noise,—all rude and violent vociferation in the pulpit. His subjects were always serious and sublime; they might well be ranged under three heads,—Ruin, Righteousness, and Regeneration. He always steered a middle course, between a haughty positivity, and a sceptical hesitation. He made it an invariable rule to be thoroughly convinced of the truth and importance of his subject, before he proceeded to state and defend it; but, when he was once in possession of a truth, he held it with the greatest fortitude and tenaciousness. He considered very minutely the state of all his hearers. He did not preach to a promiscuous auditory, as though they were all converted to Christ; nor did he treat true believers as though they were in an unregenerate state.”

“He preached without notes,” says his friend, Dr. Stonehouse, “excepting that he had before him a small leaf of paper, on which were written, in short-hand, the general heads and particulars of the sermon, which he sometimes looked at, and sometimes not. He was very regular in his plans, nor was he very long; from thirty to forty minutes was his usual time; rarely longer. His weakness rendering him, for several months before his death, incapable of speaking any length of time to his congregation, he shortened his discourses, and took a most useful method of inculcating his instructions. After he had expounded his text, and divided his sermon into two or three heads, he would speak briefly, and, at the conclusion of each head, enforce what he had said by a pertinent text of Scripture, desiring his congregation to turn to their Bibles, and double down that text. ‘Now,’ he added, ‘my dear brethren if you forget my sermon, you cannot forget God’s word in this text, unless you wilfully throw aside your Bibles. Show this to your children, or the absent part of your family, when you return home.’ Then he gave a striking exhortation, and, at the end of it, another text for them to double down; so that they always had three texts, in order to their finding of which he paused in the pulpit for two or three minutes. This method had another good effect; it obliged the generality to bring their Bibles along with them, for those who were without Bibles lost the benefit of the texts, and were unemployed, while the great majority, who had theirs, were busy looking for the texts referred to in the sermon.”

“My acquaintance with Mr. Hervey,” writes the Rev. Dr. Haweis, “was only of one day. He was removing from his ministerial labours, just as I was ready to enter upon mine; and, being very desirous of seeing him before his departure to glory, I rode from Oxford to Weston-Favel, a distance of about fifty miles, for that purpose. I found him tall and much emaciated. His preaching was purely evangelical, and very similar to his writings, in beautiful comments on the Scriptures he quoted; but his manner of delivery, in the tone of voice and action, far from the elegance I expected. His church was very small; and, though full, was not remarkably crowded; but the people were very attentive to hear him.”

These are mere glimpses of Hervey as a preacher; but they are of some importance, as being furnished by those who saw and heard him.

Hervey had become famous, and some of his friends wished for a formal recognition of the fact. The following refers to this, and also to Wesley’s strictures on his “Theron and Aspasio”:—

“Now for the affair, relating to Mr. Ogilvie’s proposal. Tell our amiable and benevolent friend, that, I am deeply sensible of his kindness; but I must beg of him to lay aside all thoughts of procuring for me so undeserved a distinction. I assure you, it would make me blush, and give me much uneasiness, to be addressed under the character of doctor. Never, no never, should I have taken as much as a master’s degree, if I had not been obliged to it, in order to hold what we call ecclesiastical preferment. Preferment? Yes, if rightly understood, it is rightly so called. For what can be a more honourable or exalted office, than to labour for Christ? O that my brethren and I may always understand the word preferment in this truly precious and noble sense!

“It is a great uncertainty, whether I shall be enabled to add another volume. I am told, a very formidable attack is going to be made upon ‘Theron and Aspasio,’ by a hand not well affected to the imputed righteousness of our Lord, but remarkably zealous for the inherent righteousness and perfection of man.”[249]

In this world, no man basks in unclouded sunshine. Upon the whole, the reviews of Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,” had been favourable; those of his later publications[250] had been otherwise.

“Have a care,” he wrote, in a letter, dated November 21, 1757, “Have a care, you do not depreciate your works by inserting anything of mine. My poor character is going to execution. The Reviewers have already put the halter about its neck; if, therefore, you would obtain distinction, or are a candidate for fame, stand clear and detached from such a contemptible scribbler.”

Besides this, he suffered increasingly from enfeebled health.

“Incessant and insuperable languors,” he wrote, “unfit me for every business; render every enjoyment unrelishing; and, what is more deplorable, make my temper like the sore, inflamed, ulcerated flesh. Anything that comes unexpected, alarms me; anything that goes cross, vexes me: I am sadly inclined to a peevish humour.”

In another letter, belonging to the same period, he writes:—

“I beg, I entreat you, if you value the honour of the Gospel, that, you will dissuade those polite persons you mention, from coming to hear me to-morrow. My spirits sink more and more, I am visited with some returns of my hacking cough; perhaps I shall not be able to speak at all. Such disagreeable circumstances will only expose me, and create in them very unpleasing ideas of what I shall deliver. My imagination is gone. I am sensible my sermons are flat, and my voice spiritless. The poor country people love me tenderly, and, therefore, bear with my infirmities; else, I should no longer attempt to preach, even before them. I am now unfit to appear in the pulpit.”

In the midst of all this, Hervey commenced the rebuilding of his parsonage; and, besides the vexations usually connected with such undertakings, he had to suffer the annoyance of the builder, with which he had contracted, decamping, before the erection was completed, and exposing poor Hervey to the worry of being dunned by the rogue’s disappointed creditors.[251]

Hervey was more sensitive than he thought he was; and the combined circumstances just mentioned painfully affected him. In the excitement of his feelings, he began to prepare a shilling pamphlet, in reply to the Critical Review, which had designated Jenks’s Meditations “ridiculous and enthusiastic.” With greater vulgarity than refinement, they had been described “like hairs on the greasy coat of a groom, or like dish-water thrown down the kennel.” Malevolence like this was too contemptible to be noticed; and, yet, Hervey put himself to considerable inconvenience in writing, “Ned Dry’s Apology for the Critical Reviewers,”—a pamphlet which he intended to be a satirical castigation of his nameless opponents, as well as a vindication of Mr. Jenks and of himself. It was a mistake to notice anonymous revilers at all; and it was an additional mistake for Hervey to attempt to compose a satire. His mind was too exquisitely refined, and his soul too loving, to succeed in literary flagellation. He was himself in doubt respecting this, and wrote to Mr. Ryland as follows:—