MEMOIRS
OF THE
RIGHT REV. DANIEL CORRIE, LL.D.
[Illustration:
_Woodman, Sc._
_Daniel Corrie, LLD._
_First Bishop of Madras._
London, Published by Seeley & Cᵒ. Fleet Street Janʸ. 1847.]
MEMOIRS
OF THE
RIGHT REV. DANIEL CORRIE, LL.D.
FIRST BISHOP OF MADRAS.
COMPILED CHIEFLY FROM HIS OWN LETTERS AND JOURNALS,
BY HIS BROTHERS.
SEELEY, BURNSIDE, AND SEELEY,
FLEET STREET, LONDON
MDCCCXLVII.
LEONARD SEELEY, PRINTER,
THAMES DITTON.
PREFACE.
As the greater portion of these Memoirs of a loved and honoured
brother, have been derived from his own papers, it is hoped that the
risk of representing him other than he really was has, in a great
measure, been avoided. In making use, however, of such materials
as were in the possession of the Editors, they judged it to be
desirable to give somewhat copious details of their brother’s earlier
ministerial labours, because they conceived that it was then that
the principles and motives by which throughout life he desired to be
actuated were most severely tested. The Editors were of opinion, too,
that whilst many of the particulars connected with their brother’s
earlier labours in Northern India, would be new to the great
proportion of the present generation, these records of “the day of
small things” could not be without interest and use to all who may be
engaged in the work of Missions.
To account for the delay attending the appearance of this Volume,
it may be proper to state, that, independently of the time consumed
in the transmission of some papers from India, many unforeseen
circumstances prevented the brother who had undertaken the task,
from preparing any portion of these Memoirs for the press until
August, 1845. At that time it pleased God to visit him with a serious
illness, which ultimately brought him to the grave; and thus the
responsibility of completing what an abler hand had commenced,
devolved on the only surviving brother, who, in his turn, has not
been altogether free from those interruptions which arise out of the
duties and afflictions of ordinary life.
It remains to acknowledge, with thanks, the obligation of the Editors
to the Lord Bishop of Oxford, for the Letters which the subject of
these Memoirs addressed to the Rev. D. Brown, the Rev. H. Martyn, and
the Rev. J. Sargent; to the Lord Bishop of Calcutta, for the account
of the Visitation of the Upper Provinces, which appears in pp. 529
and seq; to the widow of the late Rev. J. Buckworth, for letters
addressed to her husband; and to the Archdeacon Harper for letters
and information connected with the Diocese of Madras. It will be seen
also, that the Editors of these Memoirs have been much indebted to
the correspondence of their brother with Mr. Sherer, of the Bengal
Civil Service,--himself recently numbered with the dead who are
waiting for the resurrection to eternal life.
_January 28, 1847._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
HIS EARLY LIFE--AND MINISTRATIONS. _page 1_
CHAPTER II.
DEPARTURE FOR INDIA--VOYAGE--ARRIVAL AT CALCUTTA. _page 23_
CHAPTER III.
AT ALDEEN--APPOINTED TO CHUNAR. _page 47_
CHAPTER IV.
SETTLEMENT AT CHUNAR. _page 65_
CHAPTER V.
RESIDENCE AT CHUNAR. _page 88_
CHAPTER VI.
VISIT TO CALCUTTA--ARRIVAL OF HIS SISTER. _page 118_
CHAPTER VII.
REMOVES FROM CHUNAR--ARRIVES AT CAWNPORE--ILLNESS OF
MRS. MARTYN. _page 140_
CHAPTER VIII.
RESIDENCE AT CAWNPORE. _page 178_
CHAPTER IX.
CAWNPORE--COEL--RETURN TO CALCUTTA. _page 201_
CHAPTER X.
CALCUTTA. _page 227_
CHAPTER XI.
AGRA. _page 245_
CHAPTER XII.
VOYAGE TO ENGLAND. _page 280_
CHAPTER XIII.
RETURN TO CALCUTTA. _page 295_
CHAPTER XIV.
REMOVAL TO CALCUTTA. _page 320_
CHAPTER XV.
CAWNPORE--CALCUTTA--RETURN OF MR. THOMASON--DEATH OF
BISHOP HEBER. _page 371_
CHAPTER XVI.
ARRIVAL OF BISHOP JAMES--CONSECRATION OF THE BISHOP’S
COLLEGE--DEATH OF BISHOP JAMES--VISIT TO THE UPPER
PROVINCES. _page 415_
CHAPTER XVII.
GOVERNMENT RETRENCHMENTS--PLAN FOR A COLLEGE--DEATH OF
MR. THOMASON--ABOLITION OF SUTTEE--ARRIVAL OF BISHOP
TURNER. _page 446_
CHAPTER XVIII.
DISQUIETUDE CONCERNING THE ANGLO-HINDOO COLLEGE--DEATH
OF BISHOP TURNER. _page 481_
CHAPTER XIX.
ARRIVAL OF BISHOP WILSON--BAPTISM OF NATIVES--
ORDINATIONS--VISITATION OF THE UPPER PROVINCES. _page 519_
CHAPTER XX.
DELAY IN HIS NOMINATION TO THE BISHOPRIC--NARROW ESCAPE
FROM DEATH--SUMMONED TO ENGLAND--VISITS THE CAPE AND
ST. HELENA--HIS CONSECRATION--INTERVIEW WITH THE
KING--ARRIVAL IN MADRAS--VISIT TO TANJORE AND
TINNEVELLY. _page 563_
CHAPTER XXI.
CHURCH-BUILDING FUND--SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE IRISH
CLERGY--THE MADRAS GRAMMAR SCHOOL--MEMORIAL TO
GOVERNMENT--PRIMARY VISITATION--DEATH OF MRS.
CORRIE--ORDINATION--DEATH OF BISHOP CORRIE. _page 603_
MEMOIRS,
ETC.
MEMOIRS,
ETC. ETC.
CHAPTER I.
HIS EARLY LIFE--AND MINISTRATIONS.
Daniel Corrie, the subject of this Memoir, was born on the 10th of
April 1777, and was the eldest surviving son of the late Rev. John
Corrie, for many years Curate of Colsterworth, in the county of
Lincoln, and Vicar of Osbournby in the same county, and afterwards
Rector of Morcott, in the county of Rutland. The history of the early
part of Mr. Corrie’s life will be best told by the following extract
from his private Journal, dated on his twenty-seventh birthday:--
“Alas, when I look back, what a dreary waste appears!
Seventeen years spent at home without a thought of God or
salvation, though I had the benefit of family worship,
and abundance of good advice. The succeeding four years
I spent with Mr. E.,[1] principally in London, and its
neighbourhood, exposed to every temptation. The first
serious resolution I made of reformation was on the night
of February 10, 1798, on which I heard of my mother’s
death, which, occurring suddenly, was a great shock to
me. I loved her most dearly, and had much reason to do
so. Being totally ignorant, however, of my own depravity,
and in darkness as it regarded the work of the Redeemer,
I soon broke all my resolutions. In May 1798, I returned
to my father: and, being removed from my temptations, I
was in hope of effectually reforming myself; but, alas!
on every convenient occasion, I became the prey of my
former temptations. In the October of that year, we removed
from Colsterworth to Grantham, where I became still more
strict, attending every month at the Lord’s Table; but
I was still ignorant of the way of salvation. In the
summer of 1799, I was entered of Clare Hall, Cambridge;
and before going into residence, I met frequently with
Mr. G. N., who took much pains to direct my views aright;
but I obstinately withstood him, and succeeded too
fatally, I fear, in hardening C. against his admonitions.
Still, I was destitute of true peace, and determined on
greater strictness, such as fasting and penance, &c. &c.
I went into residence at Cambridge, October 1799; but
instead of further reformation, I spent my first year
in a round of dissipation. Still, however, I maintained
appearances, being seldom out of gates after ten o’clock,
or being absent from chapel. I went occasionally to
Trinity Church,[2] though I was much disgusted with what
I heard there. During the summer of 1800, I had time for
reflection, and returned to college in the autumn, with
some faint desires of doing better. At Christmas of that
year, I was appointed to an exhibition at Trinity Hall,
and removed thither in the January of 1801. I now began
to feel a growing attachment to Mr. Simeon’s ministry,
although I seldom ventured to take a seat. Returning home
in June 1801, reformed in a great degree in my outward
conduct, and with desires the world could not satisfy,
it was my happiness to find John Buckworth,[3] at his
father’s; who, taking me to visit some religious people,
I insensibly began to love their society, and to perceive
that it was the way of life I desired to follow. I reflect
with much gratitude on the kindness and forbearance of my
friend Buckworth, who led me on by degrees, till I ventured
to speak to him of my state; and from that time I have
experienced a pleasure in the ways of God before unknown.
Yet, alas! I began to be proud; and returned to college
in October 1801 full of self-conceit. I now attended
Trinity Church regularly; but my walk was very uneven.
About Christmas I fell grievously, and continued for
about a fortnight full of terror, and without resolution
to proceed. It pleased the Lord, however, to raise me up
again; and since that period I have had no distressing
apprehensions respecting God’s willingness, and the
Saviour’s sufficiency, to save to the uttermost.”
With reference to what Mr. Corrie terms in the foregoing extract, a
grievous fall, he expressed himself to his friend Buckworth, in a
letter dated Dec. 25, 1801, as follows:--
“I was too forward and presumptuous in my notions of
acceptance with God, and of an interest in the Saviour; and
God has thus left me to myself, to prove to me the pride
and deceit of my heart. I have been ashamed of my Saviour,
and he has withdrawn from me the sense of His presence; and
dismay and a fearful looking for of judgment has taken
possession of my soul. Yet the anxiety and longing after
His presence, which I feel, leads me to hope that He will
not cast me off for ever. God, Thou knowest my heart: Thou
knowest that I trust not in my own self for strength to
serve Thee. O shut not Thy merciful ears to my prayers!”
After keeping the usual number of Terms in Cambridge, Mr. Corrie was
ordained Deacon on Trinity Sunday, June 13, 1802, by Dr. Tomline,
Bishop of Lincoln, to the curacy of Buckminster, in the county of
Leicester. His views and feelings with respect to the christian
ministry, are expressed in the following extract from a letter
written about the time of ordination to Mr. Buckworth:--
“The ministry appears to be indeed an awful undertaking:
the nearer the time approaches, the more difficult do the
duties of it appear. At C. the obstacles seem to be greater
than elsewhere. O for a firm reliance on that grace that
can overcome all obstacles, and make even a bed of thorns
easy!”
Shortly after Mr. Corrie had been ordained to the curacy of
Buckminster, he received an appointment to that of Stoke Rochford
also. On this latter curacy he resided, until in 1806 he accepted a
chaplaincy to the East India Company; and his correspondence with Mr.
Buckworth, affords us some notices of his early ministerial life. In
a letter dated November 10, 1802, he writes,
“I yesterday met a large party from Skillington at N.’s.
You know I never was among them before. I felt little
edification: their manner of expression, and many passages
in their hymns, were not in unison with my frame. I felt
not that ‘Nature’s last agony was o’er;’ or that ‘all was
torn from my bleeding heart;’ but thought that ‘would to
God this were my experience!’ O that I might love Him
supremely--that I might burn with love in return for His
matchless goodness! But, what I most objected to was a
hymn, beginning, ‘Abraham when _severely_ tried,’ and in
the third line, ‘He with the _harsh_ command complied.’
I may not be correct in any except the _marked_ words;
but surely nothing can be ‘severe,’ or ‘harsh,’ which
proceeds from a God of love, who is engaged to make all
things work together for our good. Send me word, dear B.
what you think of these things: whether these remarks
are not the offspring of a captious and weak head; or
whether it is an artifice of Satan to prevent me from
profiting by their company; for, certain it is, I feel
little of that elevation I have often felt after religious
conversation. I spent the evening of Sunday at Mrs. B.’s,
I trust profitably. Some of their relations were there,
and went away seemingly impressed. May God fix what was
said on their hearts! I spoke to them from my favourite
subject, 2 Cor. viii. 9. The subject of our poverty, and
the way in which we were made rich in Christ, were the
principal topics I dwelt on. O that He would be pleased
to own the labours of the very least of his servants, who
am not worthy to be called a servant! Blessed be He who
has ‘laid help on one that is mighty;’ and blessed be He
who knows how to pity our infirmities, and will send his
Spirit to teach us what to ask for. How my praise for ever
flows, to the adorable Trinity for that grand scheme of
redemption! While I write, I feel the efficacy of Christ’s
atoning blood to purify souls polluted as mine. O when
shall redemption in its fullest import appear! When shall
we begin the triumphant song of the redeemed, ‘To Him who
loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood!’”
“March 7, 1803.
“My time, sorry am I to say, has passed heavily of late.
Such backwardness to communion with God, such slothfulness
in His service: so many painful apprehensions with regard
to temporal inconveniences: so many distressing doubts with
regard to retaining Stoke! You, perhaps, will not wonder
when I tell you that, what with inward conflict and outward
service, I am brought very low; or that these unbelieving
fears have provoked the Holy Spirit of God to leave me,
in some measure, to wrestle with those inward and hidden
corruptions of my heart, which, like a troubled sea, throw
up mire and dirt in abundance. Yet by this, if by nothing
else, do I know that the Lord favours me, since my enemies,
who have assaulted me so continually, have not prevailed
against me. And though my soul is cast down; yet do I not
doubt but that, when the Lord sees fit, I shall praise Him,
and again rejoice in the God of my salvation.
“You desire to know how I go on, that is, I suppose, how
the work of the Lord prospers. O that I had more to tell
you on this head! At Sewstern, I have reason to fear
that my hopes were too sanguine. Miss N. was last week
attacked very suddenly with a fainting fit. It happened
to be the day I was to drink tea with them. I found them
much alarmed; and, it gave me an opportunity of speaking
on the necessity of a speedy application to Christ.... May
the Spirit of God apply it to their hearts! At Easton, I
was called to visit a woman who has been long confined,
though till lately unknown to me. I trust that the Lord
has indeed visited her in mercy. I found her at first in
a very contented state, supposing, (in her own words),
that she had ‘a good repenting heart.’ I endeavoured to
convince her that by nature no one has a repenting heart,
but on the contrary that it is only evil, yea ‘desperately
wicked.’ On my return a few days after, I found her in much
anxiety, saying that she had been deceived in her opinion
of herself, &c.; and though her doubts are not yet removed,
I trust she disclaimed all other ground of confidence but
the Redeemer’s merits. This is matter of much comfort to
me; and O what comfort that I have myself been taught
these things! Might I not have been ‘a blind leader of the
blind.’ Might I not still have been the slave of Satan, and
been his instrument in destroying souls? ‘O to grace how
great a debtor!’”
“April 25, 1803.
“Soon after my last letter to you, peace began to dawn
upon my soul; and by imperceptible advances gradually to
increase. I have since then enjoyed in general a settled
calm; though of late I have been severely exercised by
the revival of corruptions which I had hoped were in a
great measure subdued. The Lord has let me plainly see
that the seeds of these evils still remain. At the same
time I have reason to bless His name, who has made me more
than conqueror. Mr. Newton’s letter on Temptation suits my
experience on that subject; and it has been the instrument
of much comfort and strength to me.
“You perhaps have learned from the newspapers the sudden
death of Mr. Cholmeley.[4] He was riding with some friends
near his own house, and fell from his horse in a fit, and
expired in a few minutes, without speaking a word: he was
buried last Saturday. How loudly do such providences call
upon us to be in continual readiness; not only to awake
from sin, but to be diligent in the improvement of our
talent, that when our Lord cometh, He may receive His own
with usury.”
“Colsterworth, June 8, 1803.
“Your letter directed to High Street, followed me hither. I
should have answered it sooner, but have been much engaged
in catechising, attending visitations, &c., besides my
usual avocations. With yourself, I have to complain of much
deadness of soul; though I enjoy now and then a passing
glimpse of the Divine goodness, for which I have much
reason to be thankful, and which keeps my soul athirst for
God, and leads me to long for brighter manifestations of
His love. I cannot but adore the condescension of Jehovah,
who, I trust, smiles upon my labours, and owns His own work
in the most worthless of His creatures.”
“Stoke, October 31, 1803.
“What obligations am I under to you for the part you have
taken, in leading my feet into the ways of peace! But,
what infinitely greater obligations do I owe to the Friend
of Sinners! That name, the ‘Friend of Sinners,’ endears
the adorable Saviour to my soul; and gladly would I leave
all things here below to see Him as he is, and love Him
as I ought. But His time is best: and it is infinite
condescension that He grants us here some visits of His
love, and gives us to taste a blessedness begun. When
I read your letter, I was almost ready to envy you the
pleasure you must have enjoyed during your stay in London;
but a little reflection reconciled me to my confined
situation. Though you were feasted with spiritual dainties,
yet unless your spiritual appetite was good you would pine
in the midst of plenty; and, blessed be His name, where He
creates an appetite, He will surely satisfy it, were it in
a desert. ‘If Elijah wants food, ravens shall feed him.’...
I have in general enjoyed much comfort in private, but my
public duties have not brought me so much consolation. So
much of self mixes with all I do, that it mars my peace;
and, I fear, hinders the success of my labours; though it
seems the highest presumption to limit the Almighty, or to
suppose that a ‘potsherd of the earth’ should obstruct His
designs. The Sunday preceding the Fast-day, I endeavoured
to prepare the minds of the people for that occasion; and
was happy to find that it was not without effect. The three
churches were crowded. I took my text from Psalm lix. 1,
2. I have read lately two of the Homilies, ‘the Homily on
the Misery of Man,’ and ‘the Homily on Salvation.’ By the
advice of my father, I reserve the others for the festivals
for which they are appointed. I hope this may have the
effect of removing prejudice--the Lord grant it may! I
can appeal to Him that my desires are to be useful in His
vineyard. May that sovereign grace be magnified which has
inspired the desire! Yesterday my father administered the
Sacrament for me at Buckminster; the number of communicants
was unusually large, though it is a time of the year in
which the people do not usually attend in numbers. I hope
this is a token for good, and an encouragement to persevere
and wait the Lord’s time....
“My dear friend, forget me not at the throne of grace:
thither I always bear you in my mind, and I have much
need of your prayers, that I may have utterance given me
to declare the mysteries of the Gospel. This is all that
is worth living for, to make known the riches of Divine
grace, and to be instrumental in winning souls to Christ.
Yet, O what coldness and backwardness I feel even in this
delightful service!...
“Did you, my friend, partial as you are, but know the
thoughts that haunt my soul, and pursue me even into the
pulpit, your good opinion would, I fear, be turned into
disgust. But ‘this is a saying worthy of all acceptation,
that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.’
This is all my salvation, and all my desire; and this shall
be all my theme, ‘Worthy is the Lamb that was slain. From
this hold, Satan has not prevailed to drive me of late. To
this hold will I cling, for He that is my righteousness is
also my strength, and in His strength I shall be more than
conqueror. May the soul of my friend ‘blossom as the rose;
and be as the garden of the Lord, well watered every where
and fruitful!’”
“London, December 20, 1803.
“I rejoice that you seem to expect no further hinderance to
your ordination at Easter. I hope you will be abundantly
blessed in your labours, for truly nothing else can satisfy
a soul thirsting after the honour that comes of God. We
need much patience, dear B., that after having done the
will of God we may inherit the promises--
‘God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform,’
and, when our finite capacities can discover no good working,
He is bringing about the purposes of His own will. Often has
he given my impatient soul to see this: in a moment hushed
the storm of raging and impetuous passions; and made, even
when all in prospect seemed gloomy, a great calm. This
experience has been of great service to me, in enabling me
to impart consolation to others, and to comfort them with
the same comfort wherewith I myself have been comforted of
God. O the heights and depths, and lengths and breadths,
of the love and condescension of God, to submit, as it were,
to the caprices of the creatures of His hand, yea, of the
rebels against His government! ‘Is this the manner of men,
O Lord?’ I feel, indeed, according to your expression,
that ‘without all-sufficient grace, quickly would my heart
return to the indulgence of those things which my judgment
tells me, are nothing but vanity and sin.’ In the review
of my experience since I came hither, much cause of praise
appears. That promise has been very abundantly realized,
‘He will not suffer you to be tempted above what ye are
able, but will with the temptation make a way to escape.’
And having this experience I would gladly ‘cast all my care
upon Him,’ who, I trust, ‘careth for me,’ in expectation
that He will ‘keep me by His mighty power through faith
unto salvation.’”
“Stoke, February 14, 1804.
“I anticipate much pleasure in your company and from
hearing you preach in some of my churches. I have, however,
I trust, learned in some poor measure to ‘cease from man;’
nor do I expect either pleasure or comfort further than as
a Divine blessing shall attend our communications. The work
of the ministry seems to be followed with little effect
in this place: for my own part, however, I have felt much
freedom from slavish fear; and have delivered my message
with boldness. If it were the will of God, I should rejoice
in some visible effects; but I desire to resign myself to
His pleasure.
“The Methodists have at length established preaching at
Sewstern; and, I understand, some have been brought under
convictions by their means. If the work be of God, I would
gladly bid it God speed; and if it be of man, it will
come to nothing. The ministers of the Established Church
labour under some disadvantages, from the necessity of
having so many parishes to attend to, &c.... Every day
convinces me more of the necessity of subordination in
religious, as well as civil affairs. The want of this is
the cause of that mania, if I may so speak, which prevails
among the Methodists, and bids fair in time to turn them
all into preachers and no hearers. They seem to look
upon preaching as the only instrument of conversion, and
overlook other means, such as reflection, self-examination,
&c.; hence their various backslidings, falling from grace,
&c., with the many reproaches that are brought upon the
gospel thereby. These things make me lament sincerely,
the defection which, I fear, daily takes place from the
Establishment. Pure in her doctrines, and apostolic in her
constitution, our Church seems, indeed, ‘the pillar and
ground of truth;’ and the best means, under the great Head,
of keeping men in the simplicity of the gospel. I would
not, however, say with Mr. D. that there is no salvation
out of her pale. I would rather pray, earnestly pray,
for a revival of vital godliness in her sons.... O that
it would ‘please God to illuminate all Bishops, Priests,
and Deacons, with true knowledge and understanding of His
word;’ and enable them to shew its real power both in their
preaching and living....”
“April 4, 1804.
“I should have answered your letter sooner, but have been
both very unwell and very much engaged. Mrs. B. left this
life for a better, in the night of the 26th ultimo. I was
in the house at the time of her departure, and I trust
profited by the awful event. She was sensible at the last,
though for some days she had been wandering. Frequently
during her illness, she confessed that she had no hope
but in the blood and righteousness of Christ, and wished
to receive Him as her King to make her holy, as well as
her Prophet to teach her, and her Priest to atone for her
transgressions. It was matter of surprise to me to hear
her express herself with a correctness on the work of the
Redeemer, which had been unusual to her; and did not seem
to be expected from one who had become so late in life
acquainted with the way of salvation. I have felt more than
I had expected to feel from the departure of one of my most
constant and attentive hearers. May the effect be lasting!
“I have of late had reason to bless God for some visible
testimony of His acceptance of my labours. Soon after you
left us, I went to visit an old person and his wife at
Sewstern, and trust that the man is in a hopeful way.
Some persons at Easton, too, have been awakened, and now
meet for the purpose of social worship. The multitude,
alas! continue inattentive: but, one soul saved, and that
the meanest or weakest of God’s creation, is abundant
recompense for a life of toil and labour.
“Last Sunday, I exchanged duty with Mr. G. at W. It is
grievous to observe so small an attendance at public
worship. It seems a beacon to warn us of the ill
consequences of irregularity. When a man shews a contempt
for the institutions of the church to which he belongs,
the _profanum vulgus_, though dull enough in general, can
easily see the motive that keeps him in the church, and
they learn to despise the person who, for the sake of
emolument, will continue a member of the church.”
To the foregoing notices of Mr. Corrie’s early ministerial labours,
may be added an extract from his Journal, dated April 10, 1804.
“On Trinity Sunday, June 13, 1802, I was ordained Deacon.
I trust I had a desire to do good to the souls of men; but
it was, as I now perceive, very faint, though I hope my
labours have not been in vain. And now, O Lord, I desire
to adore that sovereign grace, which plucked me as a
brand from the mouth of the devouring flame! I would pour
out my soul in gratitude, to that dear Redeemer, whose
intercession has delivered me from so great a death; and
would bless the Holy and Eternal Spirit who has enlightened
my dark understanding, so that though I know not the
hour, nor the day, nor the month, nor even the year, when
He graciously wrought savingly upon me, yet I can say,
‘Whereas I was blind, now I see.’ O Holy, Blessed, and
glorious Trinity, let thy choicest blessings descend on
Mr. Simeon, who, regardless of the frowns he might incur,
faithfully warned me of my danger; and let thy watchful
Providence ever protect my friend Buckworth, dearer than
a brother; and, O, pardon my manifold sins! This is all my
hope, that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all
sin, and that His Spirit is powerful to subdue the most
inveterate corruptions.
‘On thee alone my hope relies,
At thy dear cross I fall,
My Lord, my Life, my Righteousness,
My Saviour, and my all.’
Impart to me from thy fulness, and let me evermore be
abounding in thy work. I trust thou hast given me to
desire the furtherance of thy glory. Enable me to act
accordingly, and to live to Him who loved me and gave
himself for me. Let nothing ever prevail to allure me
from Thee, neither the hope of preferment, nor the fear
of opposition. I have a deceitful and desperately wicked
heart, but I trust thou wilt never leave me nor forsake me,
seeing thou hast given me to hope in thy word.”
During the Easter Term 1804, Mr. Corrie returned to Cambridge for the
purpose of keeping his Law Exercises;[5] and on Sunday, June 10th,
of that year, was ordained Priest at Buckden, an event which he thus
notices:--
“This day I have been admitted to the sacred Order of
Priests. I have much, O Lord, to be grateful to Thee for!
I was kept calm and collected during the examination;
and, (glory be to Thy name!) I have been given to feel,
in some measure, my insufficiency for these things. Make
me, I beseech thee, more sensible of this, and grant that
the solemn transactions of this day may never rise up in
judgment against me! Let me be a light in the world,
showing forth thy praise; and make me, both in life and
doctrine, an example to Thy flock. Lord, excite in my heart
strong desires after the welfare of immortal souls; and
grant that those to whom, I trust, thou hast sent me, may
be ‘turned from darkness to light, and from the power of
Satan unto God.’ To thee I look: on thee I would depend.
Blessed Jesus! be thou my righteousness and my strength.
Fulfil all the good pleasure of thy will in me.”
In answer to a letter received from Mr. Buckworth, who, the Easter
previously, had been ordained to the curacy of Dewsbury, he writes,
August 24th, 1804:--
“I rejoice to hear of the success of your ministerial
efforts. O that the Lord would hasten the time when Satan’s
kingdom shall be finally demolished, and the kingdom
of the Messiah established on its ruins! You will now
have another snare to contend with; the Lord having been
pleased to own you for his servant, Satan will now seek
to exalt you beyond measure. We tread in a narrow path:
dangers stand thick around: a single false step may lead
to consequences most ruinous. O what need of watchfulness!
May the ‘Watchman of Israel’ guard you; then will you be
secure indeed! For myself, I can but just discern the pulse
of spiritual life to beat, and that chiefly by the struggle
between sin and grace. Alas! I have no active exertions to
reflect on. That I am not the willing captive of natural
inclination is all that I can say. Since you were here, I
have been obliged to apply for medical aid, and have found
considerable relief (thanks be to the chief Physician!) so
that I am now in usual health, except that I am oppressed
with a languor which distresses me exceedingly, and
leaves me only able to sigh and cry. How cheering the
consideration that ‘our life is hid with Christ in God!’
There it is secure. How animating the thought that ‘when
Christ who is our life shall appear, then shall we also
appear with him in glory!’ O the wonders of redeeming
love, that worms, rebellious worms, may not only hope,
but confidently expect such transcendent blessedness! For
Christ our Head having endured the cross, to deny Him the
rewards of His sufferings would be an injustice incapable
of entering the Eternal mind. What shall I render [to the
Lord] that amidst all my deadness, this hope is not taken
from me? My help it standeth only with the Lord; and though
I am destitute of sensible comfort, yet I am enabled to
rest upon the unchangeable word of promise, that those
whom He has justified, and to whom He has given the love
of holiness, the inseparable companion of justification,
He will infallibly glorify. With respect to the work of
the Lord, I hope it prospers among us. I hear of good
being done, and that is some comfort to me. Amongst your
numerous friends, let me beg of you to remember me at the
throne of grace: none more stands in need of your earnest
supplications. Whilst I can keep hold of the promise, I
am encouraged: but I assure you, it is indeed a warfare,
a struggle, a race. You are often, _often_ present to my
mind; and while I have any apprehension of the inestimable
value of spiritual blessings, I will not cease to pray that
you may be enriched with the choicest of them; and that we
may be permitted to join in the songs of the redeemed.”
“Stoke, November 12, 1804.
“It is some time since I heard of you, but hope you are
well: if so, the less matter whether I hear of you or not.
However, pray snatch some passing hour to let us know how
the work of the Lord goes on at D.; for, let matters go
how they may with ourselves, still will we say respecting
the success of the Gospel, ‘Good luck have thou!’ There is
in man a desire to be _something, somewhere_; and this
desire is, beyond a doubt, the moving spring of much of
that forwardness we see in many touching the promotion of
religion. Howbeit, the Gospel is furthered.
“You will be surprised to hear of the death of James P. He
was buried at Colsterworth about a fortnight since. With my
father’s permission, I preached at his funeral to a crowded
church. The effect I know not, but my own heart seemed hard
and insensible as a rock; and, indeed, though I have proof
that my labours are owned by my gracious Lord, yet I seem
like Gideon’s fleece, dry in the midst of divine dew. My
hope, however, and my confidence, is kept immoveably fixed
on the rock of ages; and I have to bless God for a growing
devotedness to his service, an increasing determination to
be the world’s fool for the sake of Christ, and to count
His reproach my highest honour.”
An entry in his private Journal, dated January 27th, 1805, manifests
the same distrust of self, and the same earnestness for the good of
his people.
“At Skillington, this morning, I felt an earnest desire,
had it been God’s will, that I were able to preach
extempore. I had so strong a desire to communicate to the
people what I felt of God’s goodness, that it seemed a
restraint to confine myself to my paper. But, Lord, thou
knowest what a proud creature I am. Thou seest how I covet
the praise of man, and in mercy to my soul hast made me
‘slow of speech.’ O make me of quick understanding in the
ways of godliness! At Stoke, I felt something of the same
spirit remaining, some longings after God in prayer, and
some breathings for his blessing on the people during
the sermon; but at Buckminster, how changed! Wandering
thoughts and imaginations. How manifold are the mercies,
how infinite the patience of God! O when will it be that
my heart shall be immoveably fixed on God: when shall my
soul become as a weaned child? Blessed Saviour! thou art
my Friend, my Advocate, my Head of influence: visit me
with thy salvation: smile upon my poor, imperfect, defiled
labours, and glorify thy name in my weakness!”
April 10th, being his 28th birth-day, is thus noticed:
“Yesterday, I was twenty-eight years of age: but, my heart
ever prone to forget the Lord’s mercies, I forgot to make
any reflections on the Divine goodness in bringing me thus
far. Lord, I would remember, to the glory of thy rich and
free grace, that thou forgivest my transgressions, and
coverest all mine iniquities. I have to praise thee that
thou hidest me from the strife of tongues: thou makest my
way very pleasant: thou strewest my path with flowers:
thou hast also given me some tokens that I have not run
unsent, by blessing my poor attempts to the consciences
of my people, and awakening some of them, I trust, from
the sleep of sin, making them to hear thy sweet voice
speaking peace to their souls. If a worm may be permitted
to plead with his Maker, O let my cry enter into thy ears,
and awaken many sinners amongst us to come to Christ that
they perish not! Yea, Lord, give me to see Jerusalem in
prosperity: nor would I cease to plead with thee till thou
hast answered my prayer. I would praise thy holy name for
a growing determination to glory in nothing save in the
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. I would bless thee for a
disposition to count reproach for his sake as my highest
glory. I plainly perceive that ‘all who will live godly
must suffer persecution.’ I cannot hope to enter into
heaven but ‘through much tribulation,’ even as thy choicest
servants have done. O enable me to keep my eye ever fixed
on Jesus, that I may not be weary, or faint in my mind!
When I look back, the brightness of thy favour makes my
unprofitableness dark indeed; and I should have just cause
to fear, that the avenging sword of thy justice would cut
me down as a cumberer of the ground; but Jesus liveth,
making intercession, and therefore I am not consumed. Nor
shall I ever be consumed, seeing, ‘He is able to save
to the uttermost.’ To all thy other favours, O Lord, add
a heart to trust thy word; and henceforth let the love
of Christ constrain me to a more constant and uniform
obedience. Thou knowest that I love thy law; and though I
come far short of its requirements, yet there is not one
jot or tittle that I desire to have altered. I consent to
it that it is ‘holy, just, and good,’ and desire to conform
my whole spirit, soul and body, to its divine precepts. Let
thy Holy Spirit, then, carry on the work thou hast begun!
Write thy law upon my heart; put it into my mind; and let
me be changed from glory to glory, till I become ‘meet for
the inheritance of the saints in light:’ whither, in thine
own good time and way, bring me of thine infinite mercy,
for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
In the Easter term of 1805, Mr. Corrie was admitted to his L.L.B.
degree. It was during this visit to Cambridge that the subject of a
chaplaincy to the East India Company was strongly urged upon him by
the late Mr. Simeon. After much and serious consideration, it seemed
to Mr. C. to be his duty to devote himself to the spread of the
Gospel amongst the heathen. An appointment to India was accordingly
obtained for him, through the influence of the late Mr. William
Hoare; and the following extracts from Mr. C.’s journal and letters
will exhibit the state of his mind, in the prospect of quitting his
curacy, for the purpose of exercising his ministry in a distant land.
“July 25th, 1805. I have for a long time neglected to note
down the workings of my soul; but I would now remark, that
when I have been in my best frames, my mind has been most
resigned to the work of the Lord in India. Yet I feel much
cleaving to creatures, and a want of resignation. Lord,
teach me to know, and do thy will!
“Oct. 6th. As the time approaches for leaving England, more
anxiety of mind arises; though blessed be God, no desire
to draw back from the work. O may I be found but faithful!
Lord, strengthen and support me in the work. ‘Give what
thou commandest,--and then command what thou wilt:’ let thy
will be done _in_ me, and _by_ me; and in life and death
let me be thine, through Jesus Christ, thy dear Son, and my
beloved Saviour. Amen!”
TO THE REV. J. BUCKWORTH.
“November 12, 1805.
“From my last you would, perhaps, expect to hear from me
before this; which might have been the case, but that
I received information, when in London, that the fleet
does not sail for India before January next. It is not
likely, therefore, that I shall leave this place [Stoke]
before that time; unless, indeed, Mr. D. should meet with
a curate to supply my place. He is now in London; and, as
my engagement with him ceases at Martinmas, should he meet
with any person at liberty to enter on the curacy, I cannot
expect, nor do I desire, to continue longer. He returns
this week, when it will be determined. On my way from
London, I stopped at Cambridge, and read prayers for Mr.
Simeon on the Thursday evening. It was highly gratifying
to see very many gownsmen attentive hearers of God’s word.
One might compare it to so many messengers waiting for
instructions, with which they were about to post off in
all directions. The Lord increase their number, and long
continue Mr. Simeon at Cambridge, an invaluable blessing
to the church and nation!--I feel some degree of regret
at leaving [this place]; and, especially on account of
some who manifest an attachment to the cause [of God],
whilst yet they are far from being what I could wish them.
I experience something of what the Apostle expressed
towards his people, when he declared he ‘travailed in
birth of them till Christ were formed in them.’ O that the
Lord would ‘cut short his work in righteousness,’ that I
might leave them with a prospect of rendering an account
of them with joy! I reflect with much dissatisfaction on
my conduct whilst among them: so little of the example of
Christ, so little of warmth in public, so little of zeal
in private, so much ignorance, and inexperience in stating
the truths of God, that I fear lest their blood should be
required at my hands: almost involuntarily my soul cries
out, ‘Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O Lord, and my
mouth shall sing aloud of thy righteousness!’ O the horrid
wickedness of soul-murder! How infinitely valuable must
that blood be, that can wash out so foul a stain! O may
I ever experience its healing and cleansing power; and
may the consideration of the richness and the fulness of
redeeming love animate me to greater exertions, and fill
my mouth with more exalted praises! Lord Jesus, let thy
power rest upon me, and thy strength be perfected in my
weakness! Out of the mouth of a babe and suckling in Divine
knowledge, ordain praise and glory to Thyself! Let my dear
friend say, ‘Amen,’ to these unconnected petitions; whilst,
through grace, my prayers shall continue to ascend, that
every needful gift and grace may be bestowed upon you,
that you may be enriched with all spiritual knowledge and
understanding; and that you may have utterance given ‘to
declare the whole counsel of God.’”
“January 13th, 1806.
“I have not heard further respecting the time of sailing
for India, but am getting ready for a removal on the
shortest notice. With much thankfulness I inform you,
that my mind is quite tranquil in the prospect of
leaving everything dear to human nature. I have, indeed,
sometimes, painful convictions of my insufficiency for the
great work before me; but am in general enabled to believe,
that ‘as my day is, so shall my strength be.’ The affection
my people express for me fills me with shame, that I do not
more deserve it, and with fear lest I should be tempted to
think of myself more highly than I ought to think. It has
pleased my gracious Lord, however, to give me of late a
deep experience of my own depravity, and of my unworthiness
of the least of his mercies. My dear friends seem entirely
reconciled to a separation. I trust that we shall be able
to part without the sorrow of those ‘who have no hope.’ O
how great the condescension of our Redeemer God, who stoops
to so close an union with sinful worms: who allows the sons
and daughters of corruption to address Him as their Husband
and their head; and salutes them as His spouse and His
beloved! Methinks such honour, so undeserved, might well
engage our every thought, and make our every inquiry only,
‘What shall I render, &c.?’”
[1] A friend who had expressed an intention of providing
in life for Mr. C.
[2] The church of which the late Rev. Charles Simeon was
then Incumbent.
[3] The late Rev. John Buckworth, Vicar of Dewsbury,
whose father was an inhabitant of Colsterworth.
[4] Montague Cholmeley, Esq. of Easton Hall, near
Grantham, one of Mr. Corrie’s parishioners,
and grandfather of the present Sir Montague J.
Cholmeley, Bart.
[5] It was now that Mr. Corrie became more intimately
acquainted with Henry Martyn than he had before been.