The Life And Testimony Of Richard Healy Snr.

The Gospel Standard 1864:

Richard Healy, of Ashwell, near Oakham, Rutland, died Nov. 28th, 1863.

There having been a brief account of my late dear husband’s life and death on the wrapper of the “Gospel Standard” for December, 1863, some may judge this further Obituary not called for; but the solicitations of some with whom he stood in church fellowship to see it in the body of the “Standard,” corresponding with my own feelings and wishes, I desire, with godly fear, to give a short memoir of what I know and recollect of his Christian experience, though I have only a very failing memory to help me.

Richard Healy was born at Wymondham, Rutland, Nov. 28th, 1798. His parents were members of the Established Church, and his mother very rigid in her attachment to it and observance of its forms and ceremonies. His father, a large and thriving farmer, was a man of considerable intellect, a great and active politician and ready speaker at public meetings; of no religion but this, that the worst religion of all was that which most interfered with success in the world. This is named to show the difficulties which my dear husband had to encounter when he was compelled to take up a religion which carried with it the cross. When about 26 years of age, he was married to an amiable and affectionate wife, whom the Lord saw fit to remove by death in the child-birth of her second child a son, now a man grown, and a member of the church at Oakham, when they had scarcely lived together two years. He was now left with two small children, and for a time was almost broken-hearted; for it has been said of him by those who then knew him, that if ever there were a mourner for a deceased wife he was one. But when his deep grief had subsided he went into the world, and I am grieved to say, but feel compelled to add, ran a course that afterwards made bitter work for repentance. Going down one day to see his baby that was out at nurse in the village of Ashwell, he heard the master of the house in prayer. He was advanced in years, being about 71 years of age, and the father of Joseph Cooper, of whom an Obituary, written by my husband, has appeared in the “Standard.” A prayer so humble, childlike, and scriptural, he has said he never before had heard. Such was the impression made by it on his mind, that he would frequently talk with Joseph, who then made a profession, and whose wife was then bringing up the little boy, about the things that he held and believed. These conversations with Joseph, and another old man of similar views and profession, led them both to hope that God had a favour to bestow upon him, although he looked at that time more like filling up the measure of his iniquity than to become a manifested vessel of mercy.

In 1831 or 1832, Mr. Tiptaft preached in a wagon in the Riding School at Oakham, and he went with some companions to hear for himself, concluding from the reports he had heard that the preacher was not in his right mind. He took down notes of the sermon, which, if it did not powerfully arrest him, yet had this effect, that he searched his Bible to see if what he had heard, though so strange and new, was according to the Scripture; and when he met his companions they used to argue the matter over together. Even at this time, though he could not say he had the feeling part, yet he would declare that the preacher had truth on his side. Mr. T.’s text was taken from 1 Thess. 1:4, 5: “Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God. For our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance.” One sentence that he heard in the sermon he thought very good: “O how blessed to be able to say, experimentally, ‘Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God!'”

This sermon, however, though he approved of it as truth, did not bring him out. He still continued very strict in his attendance at church and sacrament, passing through many cutting convictions of conscience, so much so as once to keep him in his bedroom a whole day, when he resolved and vowed again and again that he would depart from evil and keep the law of Moses, but depended upon his own resolutions to do better. All this travail of soul made him greatly distressed at times at the thoughts of death and eternal wrath, but he could find no way of escape. I find no memorandum earlier than June 1, 1834, when he went again to hear Mr. Tiptaft. The text was from Rom. 3:24. He seemed now greatly cut up, and felt a condemned sinner. Going home to visit his parents, he told his mother there was no hope that such a sinner as he could be saved from eternal wrath. His mother feared that he was deranged. She came over afterwards to Ashwell to see how he was, and before she left she told a neighbour her fears, who promised to look out, and let his parents know if it increased.

In October, 1834, I became his wife. The Lord had, I trust, already begun his work of grace on my heart. I cannot, however, say, that though he had heard Mr. Tiptaft, and was convinced that what he preached was the truth, he was fully decided to follow it, being held so fast to the Establishment by worldly circumstances. But he promised me that he would never oppose my going to hear the truth, and would allow me means to contribute to the cause, and assist the Lord’s poor, as far as circumstances would permit. I have many, many times been enabled to thank God for his goodness in this matter. He was a very affectionate and considerate partner, an excellent father, and when fully decided to follow the Lord, a becoming Christian master in his family.

He now took every opportunity of hearing Mr. Tiptaft; and he has also gone to Leicester and Grantham, to hear Mr. Chamberlain; and when Mr. Creasy preached at Whissendine he used to go to hear him. On July 3rd, 1836, he heard Mr. Philpot preach for the first time, at Oakham, from John 1:13. His doubts and fears seemed in a measure removed after this time, and he got comfort and strength. On Lord’s day, July 1, 1838, Mr. Turner, of Sunderland, being to preach at Sleaford, he left home on the Saturday to ride to Laughton, where his parents lived, about 10 miles from Sleaford, in order to hear him. During his ride down, he begged of the Lord that he might be searched and proved, if he was in the right in God’s sight. His parents were glad to see him, and very pleasant; and he began to think he would not offend them, but stop to-morrow with them, instead of going to Sleaford to hear Mr. Turner. With those feelings, he fell asleep, and dreamed that he was going on a certain road, when a person passed him and threw down a penny; he picked it up and awoke. This made him think what he had left home intending to do, and he begged of God to give him strength to carry out his intention to hear in the morn- ing. He therefore asked his father to lend him a horse to go to Sleaford to hear preaching, and said he would be back by 2 o’clock. Mr. Turner’s text was taken from 2 Thess. 3:3. He was to return for dinner, but he had heard so well, and felt so assured that he had an interest in God’s mercy, that it was food for him for many days. This feeling of confidence, as an earnest-penny of an eternal inheritance, was his interpretation of the penny which was thrown to him, and which he had picked up in his dream.

He now began to think he must give up going to church, though he had become very poor for his station. The clergyman was the landlord’s brother, a man of high rank and fortune, and much opposed to dissent, his own father, and all his relatives, disliking dissent also. He stopped as long as he could in the Establishment. Few persons know the difficult position which a tenant farmer without a lease occupies in a small country parish, of which every acre belongs to a high Church landlord, and of whom the clergyman is a near relative, able to prejudice his mind, and inform him of all that is going on. This he felt; but these words were always with him: “No man can serve two masters. Ye cannot serve God and Mammon.” He felt, therefore, that he must come out and leave the event with God, who had determined he should be no loser, temporally or spiritually. In 1843, a church was formed at Providence Chapel, Oakham, and he was enabled to state the way the Lord had led him, and was accepted, though he had many doubts and suspicions himself as to what he truly was in the sight of God. On August 20th, he was baptized, and as he came out of the water, was favoured with a blessed view of the Sun of Righteousness, He remained a consistent, useful, and respected member of the church until his death; was much attached to the minister, cause, and people, and for more than 20 years was unceasing in his attendance there, with his family. He was still, however, often much tried about his religion; and this was increased by a neighbour dying, who had been very constant in his attendance on the same means; but never was able to say anything on his bed of sickness and death beyond assenting to the truths. The fear that it might be so with himself gave him many errands to a throne of grace, and he prayed most earnestly that God would search the ground of our hearts, that we might not rest in a form of religion, that so when death overtook us, all our profession should prove as sinking sand. It was a very solemn weight upon his mind for a long time, and seemed to work in a particular way for his spiritual good. In 1854, his father died, leaving him more means than he had ever expected. He did not, however, alter his manner of living, nor did he seem elated or carried away into pride and worldliness, but said he hoped to have a little more to give to the cause of truth and the Lord’s poor, as he now had a farm of his own in Lincolnshire, left him by his father, besides the one he rented still at Ashwell. He had some trees cut down and a pulpit and forms made, and asked his spiritual father, Mr. Tiptaft, to preach there once a year, when in this part of the country, which request was complied with. Sometimes the barn has been quite full, and at other times, when in the midst of harvest, not quite so many; but he always felt and expressed his pleasure at seeing and hearing Mr. T., and often spoke of the faith- fulness and decision of his ministry. His custom was to go there for two nights once a fortnight in summer, and once a month in winter. He had no acquaintance in that part, and many blessed times has he had there. He always took a book in his pocket, and has said sometimes that his library there consisted of three books the Bible, Hart’s Hymns, and Mr. Tiptaft’s Sermon, preached at Helmsley, from 1 Cor. 15:10, which he read over and over again. To these he added, when it came out, “The True, Proper, and Eternal Sonship,” by Mr. Philpot, which he greatly enjoyed and highly prized. He was a constant reader of the Scriptures, and used to peruse with great care and attention the pieces which appeared in the “Gospel Standard,” seeking to enter into their drift, meaning, and spirit. This and a constant attendance under the preached gospel, combined with a naturally acute intellect and ready, active mind, were blessed to give him a sound, good judgment in the things of God, and made him a keen, though not a censorious hearer. He never was a very strong, robust man, and yet, from the activity of his mind and the lightness of his bodily frame, he could get through a good deal of work in the diligent superintendence of his farm. But towards the close of his life he began to feel the exertion too much of going so frequently to his farm in Lincolnshire, and so was led to dispose of part of his land there, and to settle his earthly affairs. Although to all appearance in perfect health, he often, very often spoke of death; and when he visited his brother members in illness, he often remarked, “The Lord only knows who is to be taken next.” Little, however, did those about him think it would be he.

On the 5th of November, though he attended to business, he did not feel well. On the 6th he had medical aid, and was treated for constipation of the bowels, it not being then discovered that the real disease was an inward tumour, which had formed in the intestines, and was therefore incurable. Under his affliction he was very patient and truly submissive, saying “the Lord’s will was best.” He told all who came to see him it was for death, and how kindly the dear Lord was dealing with him. On Saturday, November 7th, the enemy was permitted to thrust hard at the vitality of his religion. But he was enabled to beg that the Lord would be gracious unto him and repel the enemy of his soul; and the Lord granted his request, for he felt more peace and quietness. On Wednesday morning, November 11th, a neighbour and fellow-member came to see him. After telling her how he was, he said, “I have not had great things from the Lord; but I have, thanks be to his blessed name, a comfortable hope. I do not fear death.” As she was leaving, his countenance beamed up, and he said, “I shall soon join that blessed number, ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousand of thousands.” At another time he said, “I have been sweetly solaced in the night.” His eldest son, Richard, a fellow-member with him of the church, who had been quite unexpectedly sent for to see him in such a state, said, “Father, I hope you feel comfortable in your soul.” He replied, “Yes; I have no fear of death; I feel it a very solemn matter; but, bless the Lord, I feel no sting in it. I am not anxious to die, but I am willing to die, if it be the Lord’s will.” He further said, “I never felt dear Tiptaft’s words as I feel them now: ‘Am I fit to die? What a mercy to be fit for the great change! What a very great mercy to have a religion of the right sort!” His son said, “Yes; indeed, that seems most of the matter.” He replied, ”To me it seems all of the matter. You must be in it to know it.” He said, “What a love I have for that dear man, and dear Philpot too. O yes, and for all the children of God.” He spake how he felt the awful state of those who were without God in the world, making no profession; and he said, “Thousands in a profession, no better off. O, a holy God! A holy God!” His other two sons, who had been sent for from a distance to see him, urged that further medical advice should be called in; but he said, “I know all has been done for me that human aid can do. I now fall into the hands of my Lord, to do with me as may be good and right in his sight.”

Many, many times during those five nights and days did he breathe out a prayer of thanksgiving and praise to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for all mercies he had received and was receiving. He several times wished me to read the word of God to him, always telling me what portion to read, as the whole of the First Epistle general of John, part of Revelation, and part of Romans. In health, he read the Scriptures daily, and often for hours. In his Bible are marked most of the texts he had heard preached from. He did not put them down as soon as heard, but generally on the Sabbath morning, before he went to hear preaching again, as he felt it to help his memory to keep it in this way in his mind a fortnight.

A few weeks before he was taken ill, a letter of Mr. Tiptaft’s was put into his hands to read to the friends who have their tea in the vestry, between the services, and where he always stayed himself for needful refreshment. [It is the custom at Oakham to have tea provided for the friends, most of whom come from a distance, and for which they pay each a penny. This much brings the friends together, and gives the opportunity for profitable conversation] He began by telling them how much he respected the writer, the Lord in mercy having made him the blessed messenger of glad tidings to his soul, and briefly went through his own experience. Many hearts were knit to him, and there was a general feeling that there was not a word of self; to God he ascribed all the praise.

The last day of his life he kissed me, and said, “Twenty-nine years we have lived together. I do not want to leave you; but the Lord gives me submission; and his gracious will be done. Now read again 1 John 1.” After a little while, he said, “I do not say that God has never done anything for me; for, bless and praise his holy name, he has done all.”

During his illness, the Lord mercifully permitted him full possession of his faculties; not one incoherent word fell from his lips. As to myself, so unexpected was death when it came near, that almost the power of speaking seemed taken from me; but these were the answers to the questions I put to him. I said, “Are you happy?” “Yes, yes.” “Is Jesus present?” “I can’t say that, but I have no fear of death.” I again asked him, “Are you happy?” He answered, “O yes !” After an interval he said, “Christ is very precious. Give my Christian love to all the friends.” His daughter Sarah then said, “Bless us, father.” He said, “God will bless you; the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob bless you all poor Joseph’s [Alluding to Joseph Cooper’s blessing his family before he died] blessing.” He then looked up with a countenance so blessed, and, without a groan or struggle, fell asleep in Jesus.

Ashwell.

Mary Healy

[Having known the subject of the above Obituary for more than 20 years, during which period I have had many opportunities of seeing and observing him as a constant hearer, a member of the church, and a private friend, I feel I must add my testimony to the sincerity and uprightness of his Christian character. He was not a man of deep experience of either law or gospel, but never professed the least beyond what he had personally felt and known for himself. As he was a man of considerable intellect, and naturally ready of speech and free to talk, he might easily, but for the fear of God, have boasted of a false gift. But I never heard him the least in that strain. Knowing what the grace of God was, and its experimental effects in the heart, he never presumed beyond what he felt was his real state and standing. It was so in his prayers and in his conversation. But though he had not the experience with which some are favoured, he had evident marks of the grace of God, such as great love to the truth in its experience and power, to the Lord’s servants who came amongst us, and to the poor people of God, showing them, especially when enabled by his better circumstances, much kindness and liberality. In the village in which he passed his life, and where his conduct would be closely watched, he was much esteemed for his integrity, sincerity, and uprightness in his temporal dealings, and was especially beloved by the poor for his kindness and devotedness to them on all occasions, for he was truly the poor man’s friend, and, as the leading man in the parish, an influential one. It might truly be said, that when the news of his death was known, the whole parish was in tears for him; for, besides bis general kindness, being an acute man in all business matters, and of a sound judgment, he was often a wise counsellor to any neighbour who sought his advice. We know that a man may have all this without grace; but it is a mercy when a man who dies in the Lord leaves behind him a good name, so that it may be truly said of him, “The memory of the just is blessed.”—Joseph C. Philpot]