[1] See Williams’s “Missionary Enterprizes.”

[2] Lady Dorothy Shirley took for her second husband, in 1634, William Stafford of Blatherwick, county of Northampton, Esq. The last male heir of this family was William Stafford, Esq., who died without issue. Of his two sisters, his co-heirs, the elder, Susannah, married in 1699, Henry O’Brien, Esq., son of Sir Donatus O’Brien, of Dromoland, in the county of Clare. The present representative of this family is Stafford O’Brien, Esq., of Blatherwycke Park, who married a daughter of the late excellent Lady Barham: the younger, Anne, became the wife of George Lord Carberry.

[3] She had a numerous family, and two of her five sons were successively Earls of Clanricarde; Richard, the eldest, left a daughter, Lady Dorothy, who married Alexander Pendarves, Esq., of Roscarron, in Cornwall; John, the second son, who succeeded to the title after the death of his brother Richard, without issue male, was the colonel of a regiment of foot in King James’s army, and created by that monarch, after his abdication, Baron de Burgh, of Bophin, an island adjacent to the county of Galway. He was taken prisoner at the battle of Aghrim, at the head of his regiment, brought to the castle of Dublin, and thence went to England, being outlawed and attained, and his estates forfeited, for his adherence to that king; but, in the first year of the reign of Queen Anne, an act of Parliament was passed for making provision for the Protestant children of Richard, Earl of Clanricarde, and John Lord Bophin, whereby he was acquitted of all treasons and attainders, himself and children restored to their blood and estate; and Montague, Earl of Abingdon, Robert Earl Ferrars (the grandfather of Lady Huntingdon), and Henry Thynne, Esq., afterwards Viscount Weymouth, his next (Protestant) relations, were appointed guardians to his sons, for the purpose of completing their education in the Protestant religion. One of these sons, Michael, who became tenth Earl, was great grandfather to the present Marquis of Clanricarde.

Ulick de Burgh, the fourth son of Lettice, Countess of Clanricarde, was created Viscount Galway. He was a nobleman of true courage, and endowed with many good qualities: he commanded a regiment of foot in King James’s army, and was killed at the battle of Aghrim, in the 22nd year of his age. As he died without issue, as well as the third and fifth sons of his mother, the title became extinct. Besides five sons, Lady Clanricarde had four daughters, two of whom died unmarried; Lady Margaret, the eldest, married, first, Bryan, Viscount Magennis, of Iveagh; and secondly, Thomas Butler, Esq., of Kilcash, in the county of Tipperary, where she died, his widow, July 19, 1744; Lady Honora, the second daughter, first married Patrick Sarsfield, Earl of Lucan, who was killed at the battle of Landen, July 19, 1693; and secondly, in the chapel of the Castle of St. Germain’s, near Paris, in 1695, James Fitz-James, Duke of Berwick, Marshal, Duke, and Peer of France (eldest natural son of James II. by Lady Arabella Churchill, sister to John, Duke of Marlborough), one of the greatest Generals in Europe, who was killed at the siege of Philipsburgh, June 12, 1734, leaving issue by her (who died at Pezenas, a city of Languedoc, in 1698), James Francis Fitz-James, Duke of Berwick, founder of the branch of the House of Stuart, established in Spain. He was created by Philip V. Duke of Liria and Xercia, Grandee of Spain of the first Class, Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece, of St. Andrew, and St. Alexandro, and Chamberlain to the King of Spain. He married Catherine de Portugal-Columb, daughter and heir of the Duke of Veraguas, a Grandee of Spain, in whose right he bore that title. Having been sent Ambassador from Philip V. to his son Don Carlos, King of the two Sicilies, he died at Naples, June 1, 1738, aged forty-two years, leaving issue by his Duchess (who died in October, 1739), two sons and one daughter, viz.:—

[4] See, in Nichol’s History of Leicestershire, a fac-simile of a letter from Charles II. to his widow; and a portrait of Sir Robert.

[5] See Chap. VI., where the epitaph will be found.

[6] There was a considerable alteration in his religious sentiments before his death, which took place August 30th, 1752. At the close of the long inscription on his monument, in Gloucester Cathedral, it is written: “Under the most acute pains of his last tedious illness, he possessed his soul in patience, and, with a firm trust in his Redeemer, calmly resigned his spirit to the Father of Mercies.” To that epitaph might have been added, as the most distinguishing honour of this Bishop’s life, that he was the prelate who ordained the greatest, the most eloquent, and the most useful minister that any age since that of the Apostles had produced.

The venerable Dr. Hurd, Bishop of Worcester, being in the habit of preaching frequently, had observed a poor man remarkably attentive, and made him some little present. After a while he missed his humble auditor, and meeting him, said, “John, how is it that I do not see you in the aisle, as usual?” John, with some hesitation, replied, “My Lord, I hope you will not be offended, and I will tell you the truth. I went the other day to hear the Methodists, and I understand their plain words so much better, that I have attended them ever since.” The Bishop put his hand into his pocket and gave him a guinea, with words to this effect—“God bless you, and go where you can receive the greatest profit to your soul!” An instance of episcopal candour like this is well worth recording. We may be pardoned if we subjoin another.

Archbishop Secker, when laid on his couch with a broken thigh, was visited at Lambeth by Mr. Talbot, Vicar of St. Giles’s, Reading, who had lived in great intimacy with him, and received his preferment from him. “You will pray with me, Talbot?” said the Archbishop, during this interview. Mr. Talbot rose, and went to look for a Prayer Book. “That is not what I want now (said the dying prelate); kneel down by me, and pray for me in the way I know you are used to do.” With which command this zealous man of God readily complied, and prayed earnestly from his heart for his dying friend, whom he saw no more.

[7] Her Ladyship was daughter of Richard, first Earl of Scarborough, and became second wife to Frederick Frankland, Esq., Member of Parliament for Thirsk, in Yorkshire, a Commissioner of the Revenue in Ireland, and a Commissioner of the Excise in England, son of Sir Thomas Frankland, Bart., and nephew to the Earl of Fauconberg. For many years Lady Anne held the situation of Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess Anne, and to the Princesses Amelia and Caroline. Attracted by the fame of the first Methodists, who had been mentioned with high approbation by her friend, Lady Huntingdon, soon after her marriage, Lady Anne, with her sisters, the Lady Barbara Leigh and the Lady Henrietta Lumley, sometimes attended their ministry, and received much spiritual good. This excited the displeasure of Mr. Frankland to such a degree, that he treated her Ladyship with the utmost cruelty and unkindness. “Poor Lady Anne Frankland (says Lady Hertford,) is already parted from her husband, and, I think, without any one person giving her the least share of blame. It seems that he parted beds with her before she had been three weeks married, and on all occasions behaved towards her with the utmost cruelty. However, she made no complaint, till he insisted on her leaving the house, when she begged of him not to force her to do that, and told him, that provided he would allow her to have the sanction of being under his roof, she would submit to anything. His answer was, that if she continued there, he would either murder her or himself. She then applied to my Lord Scarborough, who spoke to her husband with great warmth. He did not lay any fault to her charge, but only declared that she was his aversion, and persisted in the resolution of forcing her to leave him, or killing her or himself. It is said, that he returns her fortune, allows her six hundred pounds a year, and has given her a thousand pounds to buy a house. His strange conduct towards her has been so contrary to his former character, that his friends rather ascribe it to madness than to his natural disposition.”

[8] His connexion with this lady arose from his father’s acquaintance with Lady Anne Wharton, who was co-heiress of Sir Henry Lee, of Ditchley, in Oxfordshire—a lady celebrated for her poetical talents by Burnet and by Waller, when poetry had been taught by Addison to aspire to the arms of nobility, though certainly without any extraordinary success.

[9] As the Doctor saw her gradually declining, he used frequently to walk backwards and forwards in a place called the King’s Garden, to find the most solitary spot where he might show his last token of affection, by leaving her remains as secure as possible from those savages who would have denied her Christian burial; for at that time, an Englishman in France was looked upon as an heretic, an infidel, or a devil. The under-gardener, being bribed, pointed out the most solitary place, dug the grave, and let him bury his beloved daughter. The man, through a private door, admitted the Doctor at midnight, bringing his daughter, wrapped in a sheet, upon his shoulder; he laid her in the hole, sat down, and shed a flood of tears over the remains of his dear Narcissa—

Mr. Temple married a second time a daughter of Sir John Bernard, then Lord Mayor of London. Dying in 1749, he left an only son, afterwards Viscount Palmerston, father of the present Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. Mr. and Mrs. Temple have generally been considered as the Philander and Narcissa of the “Night Thoughts.”

[10] Anthony Hammond, Esq., a Commissioner of the Navy, and some time representative in Parliament for the county of Huntingdon, and also for the University of Cambridge, was very frequently at Lord Huntingdon’s at that period. With him was his son, James Hammond, the elegiac poet, whose fame and fortune were raised by the influence of Lady Huntingdon, and Lady Fanny Shirley, to whose hand it was believed he vainly aspired—to whom some of his elegies are supposed to be addressed. He died at Lord Cobham’s house, Stowe, while member for Truro, in Cornwall. This gentleman, the “silver-tongued” Hammond of Lord Bolingbroke, who had, says Lord Chesterfield, all the senses but common sense, was a relative of the Shirley family; he married the eldest daughter of Sir W. Clarges, Bart., whose family made a triple alliance with that of Lady Huntingdon by marriage. At the same time, Somervile, the author of the “Chace,” was introduced to Lady Huntingdon by the eccentric Lady Luxborough, the sister of Lord Bolingbroke.

[11] The three favourite ladies who accompanied the King from Hanover were Mademoiselle de Schulenberg, the Countess Plater, and Madam Kilmanseg; the first alone, whom he created Duchess of Kendal, was lodged in St. James’s Palace, and had such respect paid her as very much confirmed the rumour of a left-handed marriage. She was mother of Lady Chesterfield, and as she usually presided at the King’s evening parties, was on familiar terms with those who formed his society.

[12] She was the first who extolled the preaching of Mr. Whitefield, whom she alternately liked and disliked. Her Ladyship is the supposed original of Lady Bellaston in “Tom Jones;” and Lady Tempest in “Pompey the Little.” She was the mother of George, the first Marquis Townshend, and of the famous Charles Townshend.

[13] On her return from the continent, at Mr. Pope’s solicitation, Lady Mary fixed her summer residence at Twickenham; but it was not long before she had a bitter and lasting quarrel with that irritable bard; when having exhausted all the pleasures that England could afford, and disgusted perhaps at that alienation which the sarcasm of her wit had too often produced, she obtained her husband’s leave to pass the remainder of her days on the continent.

[14] Lord Hervey was father of the late excellent Lady Mary Fitzgerald, the friend and correspondent of Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Venn, and others alike celebrated.

[15] Lady Frances was one of the daughters of the Earl of Manchester, and had married Henry, the son and heir of the celebrated Dr. Robert Saunderson, Bishop of Lincoln.

[16] Alexander Pope, the poet.

[17] The calmness and heavenly peace which surrounded Lady Huntingdon were powerful enough to avoid the hurricanes of temper to which this singular woman was liable, to such a degree that she would punish even herself rather than forego her resentment. This is proved by the well-known story of her cutting off her own hair, only because it was esteemed her most beautiful feature in the eyes of her husband; on whom to revenge some supposed opposition to her sovereign will, she disfigured herself. The Duke was not irritated by this rash act, which the Duchess often related with characteristic candour, weeping always, as she wound up her story, with the remark, that after his death she found her treasured ringlets in the cabinet wherein he kept whatever he esteemed most precious.

It was her temper that involved her in law-suits with her own children. Her eldest grandson, Robert, Earl of Sunderland, died before he had forfeited her favour. Charles was no sooner elevated to his father’s dignity, than she openly quarrelled with, and in the Court of Chancery pleaded her own cause against him. She accused him of pawning one by one the diamonds in the famous baldric of the great Marlborough’s sword, and by extravagance gave point to the charge: yet John, her youngest grandson, who was no less profligate, retained her favour in the midst of his excesses. Her granddaughter, Lady Anne Egerton, was as proud as the Duchess herself, and no less fiery; on some quarrel between them, the Duchess of Marlborough had Lady Anne’s picture daubed with black, and over it this inscription—“She is much blacker within.” With her the ruling passion was strong even against death. About four years before her demise, the Duchess was attacked by a dangerous disease, and had lain a great while ill, without speaking: her physician, believing her case very bad, said, “She must be blistered, or she will die.” Her Grace, who had listened with attention, called out, “I won’t be blistered, and I won’t die!” She kept her word.

[18] The Duchess was avowedly the natural daughter of King James the Second; but supposed to be really the daughter of Colonel Graham, an admirer of her mother, Lady Dorchester. This lady, who was the only daughter of Sir Charles Sedley, the celebrated wit, was mistress to the King, and had a pension of five thousand per annum on the Irish Establishment. She afterwards married the Earl of Portmore, and left two sons, one of whom succeeded to the title, and was grandfather to the present Earl. The Duchess was so proud of her birth, that she would never go to the Court of Versailles, because they would not give her the rank of Princess of the blood. She not only regulated the ceremony of her own burial, and dressed up the waxen figure of herself for Westminster Abbey, but had shown the same insensible pride on the death of her only son, the last Duke of Buckingham, dressing his figure, and sending messages to her friends, that if they had a mind to see him lie in state, she would carry them in conveniently by a back door. She sent to the old Duchess of Marlborough to borrow the triumphal car that had carried the Duke’s body. Old Sarah, as mad and as proud as herself, sent her word, “that it had carried my Lord Marlborough, and should never be profaned by any other corpse.” Proud Buckingham returned, “that she had spoken to the undertaker, and he had engaged to make a finer car for twenty pounds!”

[19] The conduct of her mother-in-law, the old Lady Sandwich, had left an indelible impression on her mind, which spread a gloom over her latter years. Lord Sandwich being confined, and denied access to by his eccentric Countess, was rendered so much a cipher, that all the duties of his station devolved upon Lord Hinchinbroke, who was an able, active, and spirited young man. His extraordinary mother, one of the daughters of the witty and repentant Earl of Rochester, partook of all the fire and vivacity of her father. She detested restraint herself, but put her Lord into “durance vile” in his own house. At his death she quitted England, too stupid, she said, for her, and resided at Paris, in habits of intimacy with the Duchess of Orleans, Mazarine, Madame de Berri, the Regent’s daughter, and also that beautiful octogenary, the Ninon de L’Enclos. Unhappily Lord Hinchinbroke died in the life-time of his weak but worthy father.

[20] Mrs. Mary Mitchell died at her house in Hart-street, Bloomsbury, December 18, 1773, and was interred in St. James’s Church, Clerkenwell, near the remains of her venerable father. On taking down the old Church, in September, 1778, the Bishop’s remains were unavoidably disturbed. His body was found in a leaden coffin, broken at the head, through which the skull and some hair were visible. The Bishop left three sons—William, Governor of New York and the Massachusetts; Gilbert, in holy orders, who took an active part on the side of Bishop Hoadley, in the Bangorian controversy; and Sir Thomas, who became one of the best lawyers of his time—Serjeant and Justice of the Common Pleas. He published the posthumous history of his father, and died in 1753.

[21] Miss Anne Cooper, who died a few months after.

[22] It is evident from the above, as well as from the preceding letter, that Mr. Wesley consulted Lady Huntingdon relative to his Journals, the manuscripts of which were submitted to her inspection, and that her Ladyship gave her opinion of them before they were published.

[23] Mr. Charles Wesley.

[24] In some of her Ladyship’s letters the name is given as above, but in others it is written Cowper.

[25] Lady Cox was one of the fruits of Mr. Whitefield’s ministry at Bath, and likewise derived much profit from the preaching and heart-searching conversation of the apostolic Griffith Jones, Rector of Llandower, in Carmarthenshire, and Mr. Thompson, Vicar of St. Ginney’s, in Cornwall, both of whom were often at Bath at this period.

[26] Her Ladyship once spoke to a workman who was repairing a garden wall, and pressed him to take some thought concerning eternity and the state of his soul. Some years afterwards she was speaking to another on the same subject, and said to him, “Thomas, I fear you never pray, nor look to Christ for salvation.” “Your Ladyship is mistaken (answered the man): I heard what passed between you and James at such a time, and the word you designed for him took effect on me.” “How did you hear it?” asked her Ladyship. “I heard it, (answered the man) on the other side of the garden, through a hole in the wall, and shall never forget the impression I received.”

[27] The very popular, but unequal, poem of “The Grave” was first printed in London in 1743; and soon after its appearance her Ladyship was presented with a copy by Dr. Watts, at the particular request of Mr. Blair, as an expression of high gratitude for the patronage she afforded him. The Doctor had experienced considerable difficulty in the publication of this little piece, and was at last compelled to cross his own inclination to please popular taste. “The booksellers can scarcely think (says Mr. Blair), considering how critical an age we live in, with respect to such kind of writings, that a person living three hundred miles from London could write so as to be acceptable to the fashionable and polite.”

[28] To whose pupil, Risdon Darracott, her Ladyship is named with eulogy in a letter from Mrs. Anne Dutton, written about this period.

[29] This gentleman held the living of Ripton Abbots, in Huntingdonshire, and appears to have possessed not only a highly Catholic spirit, but sound learning. Lady Huntingdon’s conversation was highly beneficial in leading him to clearer views of divine truth. Mr. Jones was afterwards presented to the Vicarage of Alconbury, which he resigned in a few years for a living in Bedfordshire. Whilst there he accepted the curacy of Welwyn from Dr. Young, the celebrated author of “Night Thoughts,” and continued there till the Doctor’s decease. He was killed by a fall from his horse.

[30] For the benefit of the Hospital at Northampton, or Northampton Infirmary.

[31] She was sole daughter of Lord Weymouth, and descended from Lady Frances Devereux, eldest daughter of Robert, Earl of Essex. Sir Robert and Lady Worsley were persons of great honour and integrity, and with Lady Carteret and the Countess Granville, mother to Lord Carteret, frequently attended the preaching of the first Methodists. Lady Worsley was aunt to the Duchess of Somerset, better known as the Countess of Hertford, celebrated for her patronage of literature and her own amiable genius.

[32] The epitaph, referred to at page 9, is as follows:—

“Here lie the remains of the Right Honourable Theophilus, Earl of Huntingdon, Lord Hastings, Hungerford, Botreaux, Moels, Newmark, and Molins. If his death deserved respect, his life deserved it more. If he derived his title from a long roll of illustrious ancestors, he reflected back on them superior honours. He ennobled nobility by virtue. He was of the first rank in both; good in every relation of natural duty and social life. The learning he acquired at school he improved at Oxford, under the care of that excellent person, the late Bishop of Gloucester.[33] Acquainted by his studies with the characters of past ages, he acquired by his travels a knowledge of the men and manners of his own: he visited France, Italy, and even Spain. After these excursions into other countries, he settled in his own. His own was dear to him. No man had juster notions of the true constitution of her government: no man had a more comprehensive view of her real interests, domestic and foreign. Capable of excelling in every form of public life, he chose to appear in none. His mind fraught with knowledge, his heart elevated with sentiments of unaffected patriotism, he looked down from higher ground on the low level of a futile and corrupt generation. Despairing to do national good, he mingled as little as his rank permitted in national affairs. Home is the refuge of a wise man’s life; home was the refuge of his. By his marriage with the Lady Selina Shirley, second daughter, and one of the co-heirs of Washington, Earl Ferrars, he secured to himself, in retreat, a scene of happiness he could not have found in the world; the uninterrupted joys of conjugal love, the never-failing comforts of cordial friendship. Every care was softened, every satisfaction heightened, every hour passed smoothly away, in the company of one who enjoyed a perpetual serenity of soul, that none but those can feel in this life who are prepared for greater bliss in the next. By her, this monument is erected to record the virtues of the deceased and the grief of the living. He was born November 12, 1696, and married the said Lady, June 3, 1728. By her he had four sons and three daughters, Francis,[34] the present Earl, born March 13, 1729; George, born March 29, 1730, who died of the small-pox, aged fourteen; Ferdinando, born January 23, 1732, who also died of the small-pox, aged eleven Elizabeth,[35] the eldest daughter, born March 23, 1731; Selina, born June, 1735, who died an infant; Selina, the third daughter, born December 3, 1737. The said Earl died of a fit of apoplexy, October 13, 1746, in the fiftieth year of his age.”

[33] Dr. Martin Benson, who had ordained Mr. Whitefield.

[34] Tenth and last Earl of that line.

[35] Afterwards Countess of Moira.

[36] He was one of the first members of the Methodist Society in Fetter-lane, and, with Sir John Phillips, of Picton Castle, also member of the same Society, very useful in aiding and encouraging the labours of Mr. Whitefield and the Wesleys. He was a correspondent of the celebrated Griffith Jones, whom he assisted in the establishment of his Welsh schools, and of Dr. Doddridge, and a letter from him to Mr. Wesley appears in an early volume of the “Methodist Magazine.” His death, which occurred in 1748, was a great loss to the early Methodists. He was twice married, and left five children. His family was one of the oldest in Lincolnshire, and had given “reeves” to that “shire” prior to the conquest. By his mother he was related to Sanderson, Bishop of Lincoln, whose eldest son married Lady Frances Montagu, daughter of the Earl of Manchester. We will conclude this long note with an extract from Sir John’s letter of condolence to Lady Huntingdon, dated “St. James’s-place, 14th Nov., 1746,” and signed “your affectionate and most faithful humble servant, John Thorold.”

“My fellow-sharer in the cup of sorrow, the painful task has been imposed upon us of consigning the remains of your tenderly affectionate husband, and my most faithful friend, to the bosom of our mother earth, ‘where the wicked cease to trouble, and where the weary are for ever at rest.’ You have been called upon, by this sad stroke, to entomb in the cold and silent grave one who has long been deeply entombed in your warm affectionate heart: but the words of the great apostle, ‘thanks be unto God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!’ will help to soothe your sorrows, and, in the midst of your mourning and distress, assist in drying up your tears. I sympathise with you, but sorrow not as one without hope. There is hope concerning our dear friend: I believe it is well with him. Your loss must be borne—he cannot come back to you. The event calls you to self-examination. May every divine support and comfort be abundantly administered to the disconsolate widow! and may every blessing rest upon your young and interesting family. Look to the Rock of Hope—the Fountain Head of power—that you may derive supplies of vigour to enable you to prosecute the work which God hath assuredly marked out for you upon the earth. The Captain of your salvation is Jesus Christ, who has promised you strength for every time of need. Awake! look up! and endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ; and may you be made truly invincible in the cause of God and truth, only laying down your weapons when your dust shall return into the dust, and your spirit unto the God that gave it!”

[37] Lady Kilmorey.

[38] The Duchess of Somerset, a celebrated patroness of literature, of virtue, and religion.

[39] Several of the Edwin family were conspicuous in the early days of Methodism. John Edwin, Esq., the husband of the above-named Mrs. Edwin, held several offices under Government, and was a member of Parliament. Dr. Doddridge, in his Reflections on the opening of the year 1749, thus speaks of him:—“The accession of several valuable friends, to balance the loss of some few by death, is also to be gratefully remembered; particularly my Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Edwin, and Colonel Gumley.” His only daughter and heir, Miss Elizabeth Edwin, whom Horace Walpole complains of to his correspondent, Sir Horace Mann, as having turned Methodist, was the particular friend of the eccentric Lady Townshend, and married Charles Dalrymple, Esq., grandson of the Hon. Sir Hugh Dalrymple, brother of John, second Viscount Stair. (See a Note, post, page 89). Charles Edwin, Esq., M.P., the brother of Mr. Edwin, married Lady Charlotte Hamilton, one of the attendants of the Prince of Wales’s children. Their mother, Lady Catherine Edwin, was sister to the first Duke of Manchester, and to Anne, Countess of Suffolk. Sir Humphrey Edwin, Lord Mayor of London, was grandfather to Mr. Edwin; Mrs. Edwin’s family formed alliance with that of the Marquis of Westminster, and Lord St. John, of Bletsloe. She was eldest daughter of Sir Roger Bradshaigh, of Haigh, in the county of Lancaster, Bart., and M.P. On the failure of the male branch of this family, in 1787, the estate of Haigh devolved on Mrs. Edwin’s granddaughter, the Countess of Balcarres.

[40] See “Gentleman’s Magazine,” 1748.

[41] Mrs. Edwin was a woman of great rank, and her influence at Court, which exposed her more to the shafts of ridicule, and made her especially liable to the attacks of vanity, rendered her conversion the more remarkable. She was the fast friend of Lady Huntingdon, and a great favourite with Mr. Whitefield, who, in all his letters, warned her against the snares to which her condition led. “To see any one converted (he says) is a miracle; but to see a rich person, one of the mighty, one of the noble, converted, is a greater. May the Lord Jesus add more of your rank to his Church!” See the note at close of the last chapter, p. 87.

[42] As a proof of the power of Mr. Whitefield’s preaching, Mr. Newton mentioned, that an officer at Glasgow, who had heard him preach, laid a wager with another, that at a certain charity sermon, though he went with prejudice, he would be compelled to give something; the other, to make sure, laid all the money out of his pockets, but before he left the church he was glad to borrow some, and lose his bet. Mr. Newton mentioned another striking example of Mr. Whitefield’s persuasive oratory—his collecting at one sermon six hundred pounds for the inhabitants of an obscure village in Germany that had been burnt down: no very interesting object, surely, for the public in London. However, after the sermon, Mr. Whitefield said, “We shall sing a hymn, during which those who do not choose to give their mite on this awful occasion may sneak off.” Not one stirred; he got down from the pulpit, and ordered all the doors to be shut but one, at which he held the plate himself, and collected the above sum; more than was ever done on a similar occasion. Mr. Newton related as a fact, that at the time of his greatest persecution, when obliged to preach in the streets, in one week he received no fewer than a thousand letters from persons distressed in their consciences by the energy of his preaching.

[43] The Bishop’s death put an end to the proceedings against Mr. Bateman, who, notwithstanding Southey’s eulogy, appears, from his warm altercation with Mr. Charles Wesley, to have been a very sincere friend to the Methodists.

[44] The Earl of Bath, who married the eldest of the three daughters of Colonel Gumley, introduced that gentleman to Lady Huntingdon; and at her house, through the preaching of Mr. Whitefield, and the heart-searching conversation of the Countess, who were God’s instruments in Colonel Gumley’s conversion, the Lord met him with the blessings of his grace. Mr. Whitefield kept up a correspondence with him when absent from London; for he was ever careful to keep alive the flame he had lit up in the heart of his hearers. In one of these letters to the Colonel, he says—“Good Lady Huntingdon has an extract of a letter from a soldier, which will please you: may the Lord Jesus add more to the Church of such converts.”

The sisters and co-heiresses of the Countess of Bath were Letitia, who married Lancelot Charles Lake, Esq., whose sons were, Warwick, a Commissioner of the Stamp Office, and Gerard, first Viscount Lake, a distinguished officer in the army; and Mary, who married Francis Colman, Esq., father of the elder and grandfather of the younger George Colman, both celebrated as dramatic writers.

[45] His Lordship was half-brother to Lord Bolingbroke, and had married the daughter of Sir Richard Furness, Bart., who was uncle to Lady Huntingdon by his marriage with Lady Anne Shirley, sister to Lady Fanny, and daughter of Robert, first Earl of Ferrars.

[46] Henrietta, Countess of Suffolk, sister to the first Earl of Buckinghamshire, a few years after the death of Lord Suffolk, married the Hon. George Berkeley, a son of the second Earl Berkeley, whom she survived more than twenty years. She had been a widow only a short time, and had lately lost her only son, Lord Suffolk, when she was invited to Lady Huntingdon’s to hear Mr. Whitefield. She lived principally at Marble-hill, Twickenham, and was a well-known acquaintance of Pope, the poet, under the name of “Mrs. Howard.” She was in much favour with George II., an influence which is supposed to have contributed to the grant of her mother’s peerage. Having ingratiated herself into the favour of Queen Caroline, then Electoral Princess, she accompanied her to England, and became her bedchamber-woman. If we were to draw an estimate of the understanding and character of Lady Suffolk from the representations of Pope, Swift, and Gay, during the time of her favour, we might suppose that she possessed every accomplishment and good quality which were ever the lot of a woman. The real truth is, she was more remarkable for beauty than for understanding, and the passion which the King entertained for her was rather derived from chance, than from any combination of those transcendant qualities which Pope and Swift ascribed to their court-divinity. She lived to an advanced age, not dying till 1767. During her last illness Lady Huntingdon made some efforts to see her, but the mortified Lady Suffolk carried her resentment to the grave, and would never admit her Ladyship.

[47] Lord Chesterfield paid his court (according to those maxims and false pretensions to superior penetration which characterized him) to Lady Suffolk, and not to the Queen; and of those who acted thus the Queen never failed to oppose the rise: Lord Chesterfield is a remarkable instance. He had long coveted the post of Secretary of State, and an arrangement had been made in his favour: after an audience of the Queen, to which he had been introduced by Walpole, and thanking her for her concurrence, he had the imprudence to make a long visit to Lady Suffolk; the Queen was informed of the circumstance, and his appointment did not take place. At another time he had requested the Queen to speak to the King for some small favour; the Queen promised, but forgot it: a few days afterwards, recollecting her promise, she expressed regret at her forgetfulness, and added, she would certainly mention it that very day. Chesterfield replied, that her Majesty need not give herself that trouble, for Lady Suffolk had spoken to the King. The Queen made no reply, but on seeing the King, told him she had long promised to mention a trifling request to his Majesty, but it was needless, because Lord Chesterfield had just informed her that she had been anticipated by Lady Suffolk. The King, who always preserved great decorum with the Queen, and was very unwilling to have it supposed that the favourite interfered, was extremely displeased, both with Lord Chesterfield and Lady Suffolk; the consequence was, that in a short time her Ladyship went to Bath for her health, and returned no more to Court; Chesterfield was dismissed from his office, and never heard the reason until two years before his death, when he was informed by Lord Oxford, that his disgrace was owing to his having offended the Queen by paying court to Lady Suffolk.

[48] The loss of her youngest son, Lord Robert Ker, had so violent an effect upon the Marchioness of Lothian, as nearly to overturn her reason and ever after to leave a shade of melancholy upon her mind. He was a captain in the army, and killed at the battle of Culloden, in April, 1746. Her Ladyship was the bearer of a letter from her sister-in-law, Lady Mary Hamilton, to Lady Huntingdon, recommending Lady Lothian to the particular notice of the Countess. “Her affliction (says Lady Mary) seems to prey so deeply on her mind, that I am perpetually afraid of her losing her reason. I have done all in my power to rouse her from this state of dejection; and I think Mr. Whitefield’s ministry, when last in Edinburgh, was of signal service to her Ladyship. She is so much attached to your Ladyship, that I have the most sanguine hopes that the Lord will graciously bless your society and converse to her complete restoration. The Marquis is most painfully anxious for her recovery, and feels persuaded you will be the means, under God, of effecting a great change in her spirits. I think you will find his Lordship much increased in an experimental knowledge of divine things.”

[49] Lady Mary Hamilton was one of those persons in high life who attended the ministry of Mr. Whitefield when he visited Scotland, and was a leading character in the circles in Edinburgh. She was the youngest daughter of the Marquis of Lothian, and sister to William, third Marquis, the Countess of Home, Lady Cranstown, and Lady Ross. Her Ladyship’s mother was daughter of Archibald Campbell, the unfortunate Earl of Argyle, who was beheaded in 1685. She had married Alexander Hamilton, of Ballincrieff, member of Parliament for the county of Linlithgow, Postmaster-General of Scotland, and representative of the family of Innerwick. Mr. Hamilton was very partial to the preaching of Mr. Whitefield, and always received him at his house with every mark of polite attention. To the period of her death, in 1768, Lady Mary was the constant correspondent of Mr. Whitefield.

[50] Lady Townshend’s father, Edward Harrison, Esq., of Balls, in the county of Hertford, had formerly been Governor of Fort St. George, in the East Indies; she was sole heir to his immense fortune. Her eldest son, the first Marquis Townshend, who had served at the battles of Dettingen, Fontenoy, and Culloden, and also at the remarkable siege of Quebec, which town surrendered into his hands, as commander-in-chief, after the fatal death of Wolfe, became nearly allied to Lady Huntingdon by his marriage with Lady Charlotte Compton, only surviving issue of James, Earl of Northampton, by Elizabeth Shirley, who was in her own right Baroness Ferrars, of Chartley. Her second son, Charles Townshend, was celebrated for his brilliant talents, by which he distinguished himself in a most eminent degree, both in the Senate and Cabinet; perhaps there never arose, in any country, a man of more pointed and finished wit; and, where his passions were not concerned, of a more refined, exquisite, and penetrating judgment; but although a man of genius, he appears to have been rather more fit for literary than political attainments, and from the versatility of his political conduct he acquired the nick-name of “the weathercock.” He died in 1767, and his brother, the Marquis Townshend, survived him exactly forty years; both through life maintained a steady friendship for Lady Huntingdon, who outlived their eccentric mother only a few years.

[51] Apropos of Lady Townshend, we may here observe that Horace Walpole unwittingly bears testimony to the uniform consistency of Mr. Whitefield’s creed and character. When the peace-festival was celebrated at Ranelagh, some one in the clique of wits, most likely himself, was talking of the Methodists, and said, “Pray, Madam, is it true that Whitefield has recanted?” Lady Townshend replied, “O no; he has only canted.” Walpole thought this a happy hit, little dreaming it to be a compliment to a man who might have had preferment at the time, if he would have recanted even his clerical irregularities. In a letter from Bristol dated in the December of this year, Mr. Whitefield tells Lady Huntingdon, “the Bishop behaved respectfully when I was at sacrament at the cathedral, and my old tutor, one of the prebendaries, was very cordial when I waited upon him. I told him that my judgment was (I trusted) a little more ripened than it was some years ago, and that as fast as I found out my faults, I would be glad to acknowledge them. He said, the offence the governors of the Church had taken against me would lessen and wear off as I grew moderate. Blessed be God, I am pretty easy about that; so that I can act an honest part, and be kept from trimming, I will, through the Divine assistance, leave all consequences to Him who orders all things well.”