“_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]