Past religious state—Feeble instrumentality of its reformation—DAVID
SAUNDERS, the pious Shepherd of Salisbury Plain—His early life—Correction
of error in former narratives.
IN reference to the former religious state of this place the picture is a
truly gloomy one—a common ruin of all that is holy seems to have pervaded
society from the highest to the lowest; nor did the condition appear to
awaken any concern—bull and badger baiting, cock and dog fighting, with
all their concomitant evils, depravity of manners, pugilistic encounters,
drunkenness and profanity, were the characteristics of the people, not of
the lower classes only, but also the middle and upper, and not only
sanctioned but encouraged by the clergy; to such an extent did this run,
that a notoriety rested upon the place and its inhabitants for miles
round. It is true the Society of Friends had long possessed a place of
worship here, but little benefit resulted to the morals of the people.
The peculiar tenets held by them, together with other circumstances,
tended to their decline, public service was confined to periodical
assemblings, called quarterly district meetings, the funeral of friends,
or the visits of some of their principal speakers.
In the Establishment the teaching was a meagre maudling something, for
neither in precept or example could it be called religion, or even
morality. Its quality was of the same stamp as that which generally
pervaded the discourses of the clergy of that day, and which diffused its
baneful seeds over the country at large, such as might be expected, where
the sports of the field, the facilities for angling, and the pleasures of
good-fellowship were objects of pre-eminent attraction to clerical
ambition. The submission of the poor to their superiors; reverence and
obedience to the commands of the priesthood; abject veneration for the
Established Church; punctuality in attendance on her rites and
ceremonies, with a full and prompt discharge of all her dues; these were
the staple of her instructions, and all that was required by her to
constitute a good man, a Christian, and to entitle him to heaven; while
every effort made to instruct and enlighten the mind received the whole
weight of her opposition and anathema, as it was considered far
preferable that the population be left in the grossest darkness,
perfectly and profoundly ignorant of the claims of God, so besotted in
vice were they, that to be the best fighter, to have the best bulldog, to
possess the finest game bird, or to have won the prize in any of the
sports was the highest felicity and enjoyment their minds could desire or
appreciate.
As in many of the most important conveniences and improvements of
civilised life, the origin or spring has been insignificant and
comparatively obscure, surrounded with every disadvantage and impediment
to success; so also has it been with our most valuable religious
movements, “For God hath chosen the foolish things of this world to
confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to
confound the things that are mighty; and base things of the world, and
things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are
not, to bring to nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in
his presence.” {13} Look at the great moral and spiritual reformation
which commenced in the year 1503, when a change took place in Germany,
agitating the whole Christian world, shaking the papal kingdom from the
centre to the circumference, opening to the light its secret
abominations, overturning its iniquitous customs, irradiating its darkest
recesses, and pouring its healing waters into the abodes of suffering and
woe. And what was the immediate instrument, and who was the artificer
selected or raised up to accomplish this? The prohibited volume of the
Holy Scripture, which had long lain on the shelves of the library at the
Augustine monastery at Erfurt—here Martin Luther, a monk, found it,
secretly he conveyed it to his cell, and amid the solemn silence and
darkness of night, his solitary lamp tells his employment, and aids him
in exploring the mine of truth, the record of eternal life. Celestial
light diffused itself through his mind, illumined his soul, and wrought
strong convictions that the principles and practices of that Church, of
which he was the avowed and sworn servant, were at perfect variance with
truth. Arrayed against him as was the whole hierarchy of that apostate
Church, he clothed himself in the panoply of the Gospel, especially “the
sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God,” to do warfare in the
sacred cause.
So here an obscure peasant, inhabiting a cot so lowly that those
accustomed to more convenient and comfortable accommodation would be
disposed to spurn the humble abode as a mere hovel unfit for human
dwelling; whose days are devoted to toil amid exposure to all the varying
influences of weather, the father of a large and increasing family, whose
wants might plead excuse, and claim his undivided attention, together
with a heavily afflicted wife, whose ill-health prevents her sharing her
husband’s labours, or ministering to the comforts of her family, his
scanty pittance not exceeding one shilling a-day, save the help derived
from friendship’s gifts or dole of charity, or what his children (into
whose minds he had carefully installed those principles of right and
industry) could earn by cow-tending and other casual employment, the
younger ones collecting the knobs of wool found in the sheep-walks, which
the elder ones would in the evening card, clean, and spin, and either
dispose of to persons inclined to purchase, knit into stockings, or send
to Potterne or Cheverill villages in the vicinity, where a weaver or two
resided, and have it wove into blankets, or flannels for petticoats.
Boys and girls would accompany the father, and assist him to keep the
sheep from the corn. He it is who is to commence a local reformation,
both by his own example and precept, introducing the Gospel, whose divine
light and effects are to spread and diffuse themselves around and onward
through subsequent years—yes, even into the boundless region of that
world of immensity—Eternity.
In the year 1717, in a very mean and humble cottage at Littleton Wells, a
hamlet of West Lavington, dwells a man of lowly occupation, a shepherd,
DAVID SAUNDERS. Beneath this roof an immortal being commences his
career; an event which, when viewed aright, is calculated to awaken
thoughts of deep import even when unconnected with any remarkable
circumstances, how much more so when results of infinite moment follow.
No portentous predictions foreshadow his future course; the probability
is that the paternal lot will be his, and peasant toil with poverty’s
hard crust his only heritage. Infancy and youth in their common
every-day occurrences are past, and to him the barest modicum of
instruction is afforded probably at the dame school of the village. He
learned to read and write, beyond those rudimentary aids he does not
advance; the situation his father fills requires his early assistance and
help; he becomes an under-shepherd, and mid the variations of heat and
cold, rain and snow, wind and sunshine, his frame becomes nerved to
life’s rough path. He rises to man’s estate, and quitting the
subordinate situation takes the head; whether this was before his
father’s death or after, is not quite certain; it is, however, an
authenticated fact he did succeed his father, and remained on the same
farm upwards of thirty years, although during that time the property more
than once changed hands; it was the same as is now occupied by Mr.
Hooper. He married Lydia Bishop, and reared a family of sixteen
children. His wife died in the year 1789.
David Saunders, the individual of whom we now speak, or as he is more
generally designated on account of his piety, the pious Shepherd of
Salisbury Plain, was early brought under the itinerant labours of some of
the followers of John Wesley; at what exact period is not known. On one
occasion going to hear a Methodist preacher, probably at Imber or Seend,
with a young man, one of their society, he complains of a painful and
distressing disease, to which from early life he had been subject, which
not only caused him great trouble but was regarded by him as a great
affliction (the leprosy). His companion, while compassionating his case,
took occasion to remind him that he was afflicted with a far worse
disease, that not only afflicted his body but ruined both body and soul,
making it loathsome in the eyes of a pure and holy God, and entailed upon
it eternal misery; recommending him instantly to apply to the great
Physician for that balm which alone can effect a perfect cure. Thus made
acquainted with the Gospel, he continued the pursuit until he was brought
to a full realisation of its power: the sincerity of his profession
evidenced itself by the anxiety awakened in his mind with reference to
the condition of those around him; for, as was stated at the commencement
of this section, the religious state of the neighbourhood was awful and
alarming; he was a light in a dark place, and as was said of the church
of Pergamos, “Thou dwellest where Satan’s seat is.” Pains and penalties
awaited those who dared to think and act in opposition to the authorised
teachers, and to disturb the heavy gloom that rested on the public mind;
for at this time the same person held the two livings of East and West
Lavington. The statement in the tract published by the Religious Tract
Society would lead to the formation of a high estimate of the piety of
the neighbourhood and the resident clergy; there is nothing whatever to
warrant this, quite the reverse, and would apply to times of a much later
date. There is also a very great inaccuracy as to the shepherd being
placed in the situation of parish clerk, and removing to the house of his
predecessor, where a Sabbath school is reported to have been commenced
under the auspices of the vicar and Mr. Johnson, who was no other person
than Dr. Stonehouse, the projector of the Infirmary at Salisbury and the
resident surgeon there, but having been unsuccessful in his treatment of
a small-pox patient, which affected his reputation and very much
depressed him, he quitted the medical profession and took holy orders;
the living of the two Cheverills, which were then united, being presented
him by Earl Radnor. And it is further stated those individuals
established a day school for a few girls to be instructed by the
shepherd’s wife, who was incapacitated for out-door employment, being
heavily afflicted with the rheumatism. These facts are utterly false;
she was chiefly employed in visiting and nursing the sick, being the only
person in the parish at that time able to do so: this employment she
continued till a short time before her death. It is true the doctor was
a great friend to the shepherd and his family; and when down here, which
was principally in the winter, he would frequently have him to dine with
him at the parsonage as a special mark of his esteem. He gave him a
small bible, which is now in the possession of the Rev. Mr. Wilton, of
West Lavington, and which was kindly lent to the Author for exhibition at
the jubilee. He remained a Wesleyan to his death; of this he would
sometimes boast, saying, “I am a Wesleyan to my back-bone;” and he never
quitted the house where he was born until death.