The Life And Ministry Of James Clark
Earthen Vessel 1893:
My Dear Brother,—In acceding to your earnest request, I herewith send you a brief account of the Lord’s dealings with me. I was born into this world of sin and sorrow on April 27th, 1841, in the town of Tring, in Hertfordshire. It was my privilege, from my earliest days, to be brought up under the influence of a godly home, my parents being members and my father a deacon of the Church in Frogmore-street, in the above town. I was sent very early to the Sunday-school there.
As far back as I can recollect, I was the subject of very solemn and serious impressions, which often led me to cry unto God in secret to save and deliver me from my sins. But though my mind was often exercised about my state before God, I do not think that a work of grace was really begun till the year 1857, when I was placed under the tuition of a very spiritually minded and godly teacher, who evinced the deepest interest in the welfare of his scholars.
This teacher was accustomed, at set times, to meet with his class an affectionately to pray for each boy by name. By this means he arrested our special attention, and his earnest prayers live, in their influence, in the memories of several of his scholars to this day, and have produced by divine grace an effect that will survive when this world shall have passed away. One Sunday in June, 1857, our teacher was more than usually devout and solemn in his class, and just before we separated he looked at us so kindly, and spoke to us so tenderly (it is as though I can see his face and hear his voice while I am writing these lines), and said, “My dear boys, I want each of you to ask yourselves this question—namely, ‘Am I on the road to heaven, or am I on the road to hell?” Little did we then think that would be the last time we should ever hear our dear teacher speak to us, but so it proved, for during the week following he was taken ill, died on the Friday and was buried on the Wednesday next following. This question entered my heart by divine power. All my sins seemed to be brought before me and laid home upon my conscience. From that moment I stood guilty and condemned before God, and felt that I was verily the chiefest sinner out of hell. With a heart cut asunder with the acutest anguish I stood by the opening grave of this dear man of God. O what sacrifice would I have made could I but have had the privilege of opening my mind to him. I felt and knew that I was on the road to hell and began to think for me there could be no mercy. In this anguish of mind I continued for several months. A work of grace having been begun in the minds of others in the class at the same time, we agreed to meet privately together for reading the Word of God and prayer. This continued up to March, 1858, when one evening, just before going to the meeting, I thought it was no use for me to seek the Lord any more. He seemed to shut out my prayer. The more I cried to Him the blacker and deeper did my guilt and sin appear. I sunk to the lowest depths of dejection, and a horror of great darkness came over my soul. I seemed on the very brink of despair; not a ray of light and I trembled even to hope, while the words, “You are on the road to hell,” rent my inmost soul. I drew aside in secret, and once more pleaded my case with tears and groans before the mercy-seat, imploring the Lord, for Christ’s sake, to decide the case for me.
I arose with this thought, I will go to the meeting this once, and if I get no relief then I must decide it is no use for me any more to hope that the Lord will have mercy upon me. I went to the meeting as wretched and miserable, I think, as any poor creature could be; but before the service closed the Lord broke into my mind, and His Spirit very blessedly applied the words, “Son, be of good cheer; thy sins are all forgiven thee.” The burden was removed, the darkness fled away, and light and joy and peace followed. The happiness of that hour I shall never forget. A companion present being blessed likewise at that meeting, we both sang and praised God till two o’clock the next morning. I could now understand something of the feeling of John Bunyan’s pilgrim, when before the cross he lost his burden, and gave three leaps for joy. After this I was led to see the Scriptural ordinance of believer’s baptism, and on the first Lord’s-day in April, 1858, was baptized and united with the Church at Frogmore-street, Tring.
In reference to my call to the ministry, my mind from childhood was the subject of deep desires that, if my life were spared, the Lord would call me to this work. In my childish way, many times I did attempt to preach, having tables and chairs for my congregation. After the Lord had so mercifully revealed Himself to me, I had a yearning, longing love for precious souls, and the desire to tell to others the the glad tidings of redeeming love was intensified in my mind. But of this I did not speak to a living creature. One day while thinking over the subject, a voice seemed distinctly to say, “Go to Buckland-common,” a place I knew comparatively nothing of, situated between Tring and Chesham, Bucks. My companion had a similar impression, and after much prayerful consideration we set off to Buckland-common. Here we found at this time no place of worship, nor was a religious service of any kind held in this place. We distributed some tracts from house to house, and every soon were pressed to hold a service, which we consented to do; and in this way the Lord led me eventually to speak from a text. My companion assisted by acting as clerk. The lord wonderfully blessed the Word till, in 1859, it was deemed necessary to build a chapel: which was done amidst considerable persecution from the vicar of the adjoining parish, who, by his influence, deprived us of the first plot of ground and built a little- church thereon himself. However, a more eligible plot of land presented itself, the chapel was built and opened for public worship in August, 1860, and in November of the same year a Church was formed on New Testament principles, and I was ordained as the pastor of this little flock. Mr. C. W. Banks, Mr. J. Bloomfield, Mr. S. K. Bland, and other brethren took part in the services. The chapel and church are in close proximity to each other, standing almost side by side.
This little cause I served during the time of my apprenticeship, walking seven or eight miles and preaching three times on the Lord’s- day. In 1862, the term of my apprenticeship expiring, I felt it my duty to devote my whole time to the ministry, and from that day to the present have been called to labour in various places—namely, for a few months at a little cause at Rushden; then for ten years at Stow-market and Somersham, in Suffolk; for six years at Chatteris and Dunstable; for eight years at Peckham and Wandsworth, London; when through ill-health I had to remove into the country, and having accepted a unanimous call to the pastorate of the Old Baptist Chapel, Bradford-on-Avon, laboured there between five and six years. Here Christian friendships were formed that are fragrant in their memory and sacred and hallowed in their character. We left this scene of labour amidst expressions of the greatest affection and mutual regret. Having received a unanimous invitation to the pastorate from the friends at New- street, St. Neot’s, after much prayerful solicitude for divine direction, we were led to accept the same, and entered upon our labours here in November, 1891. We heartily pray that on this time-honoured place the dew of heaven may continue to rest, and that, as in the years gone by, the Word may be made a great blessing to many precious souls.
In reviewing the past we are constrained to sing:—
“And since my soul has known His love,
What memories has He made me prove;
Mercies which all my praise excel,
My Jesus has done all things well.”
James Clark (1841-?) was a Strict and Particular Baptist preacher. He ministered the gospel to many churches, including those meeting at Buckland-common; Rushden; Stow-market and Somersham; Chatteris and Dunstable; Peckham and Wandsworth; Bradford-on-Avon; New- street, St. Neot’s.
