The Life And Ministry Of Thomas Jones

Gospel Herald 1883:

Memoir Of Mr. Thomas Jones, Baptist Minister, Late Of Broseley

Instead of this month continuing (as intended) my notice of more of the godly ministers of past days, I will tell a little of our very old friend, who has just closed a ministry of upwards of sixty years honourably, steadfast in the faith to the end, and extensively useful. Mr. Thomas Jones, of Broseley, Shropshire, who was called home on July 4th, in the eighty-ninth year of his sage.

Born in a humble cottage at Bridgenorth, March 4th, 1795, and his mother dying in his early childhood, he was cared for by her mother, but had no early advantages of education; and after the custom of those days, and that mining, quarrying, and clay-working district, had to be inured to early toil.

When some six years old he was often had to the house of the young lady, who afterwards became Mrs. Sherwood, the authoress of “Little Henry and his bearer,” and other pleasant children’s books. She and her sister took much to little Thomas, and led him, by picture-lessons, into much knowledge of Scripture truth. “The subjects of these pictures,” he says, “explained with talent and tenderness, made me think much of the world to come; and at times I had great meltings of heart; fear and terror alternated by pleasant glows of hope, with heaven in the distance what the poet Hart calls “joyous fancies,” but to me as real as the sternest facts of life.”

He was evidently possessed of much natural intelligence and thirst for knowledge. Of course, these kind ladies were “Churchfolk;” nearly all were, or professed to be, though multitudes never went inside the building except at a wedding or funeral. Ignorance and prejudice forbade young Jones entering a “conventicle” until about twelve years old, when a playmate induced him to attend the class of a skilful and kind teacher at the Baptist chapel. “His understanding gradually opened to the fact that religion consists not in forms, liturgies, or sacerdotal ceremonies of any kind, but in a state of mind having a supernatural cause; in repentance toward God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.” Our friend became greatly attached to and revered his godly teacher (whose favourite authors were Toplady, Romaine, and Huntington), and by his teaching, he was “prepared to distinguish between law and Gospel.” “Eventually,” he records, “William Huntington was the bearer of the message which God sent to my heart with quickening power.” He was once reading, singularly enough, the treatise on “ministerial qualifications,” aloud to his grandmother, and came to the passage, “There is in the world a false gospel, a false faith, a false hope, a false church, a false Christ, and a false God.” “While reading these lines,” he says, “my soul and my whole system was convulsed; I cannot describe the feeling, the words seemed to stop in my throat, and I know I must have looked like a person in a fit. My auditor was alarmed, and exclaimed, ‘What is the matter with you?’ I could give no answer, nor could I read any more aloud. The second day after this storming of my peace I was standing alone, ruminating on the mystery, for I could think of nothing else; there it was, like a verbal sensation darting throngh me, ‘Yours is a false hope.’ The conviction sank deep, mine was a false hope, the offspring of self-love and conceit. It was then I began to read the Bible, to search it as for hid treasure; and there I learnt that a good hope is a lively hope, born in those who are born again, and who, joined to the living family of God by a vitalising work, share in the riches of grace, Christ in them the hope of glory?’

In these searchings of heart and of the Word our friend was much alone. The preaching he heard did not accord with his teacher’s teaching, and concluded with some such question as this: “Say, poor sinner, wilt thou be saved or not? Only believe.” “Oh, how tantalising,” says he. “Would I be saved! It was all my desire, Believe! I would have given a world, had I possessed one, for such faith.”

After a time, our friend fell in with a subtle book, by a clergyman, advocating the terminable nature of sin’s punishment; and, as drowning men will catch at straws, he drew “a miserable comfort from the assurance that the words “death, destruction, and eternal” had a meaning so modified, so meaningless, that law had no terrors, and justice no sword!”

This, however, did not last, and he pursued his reading and praying with varied feelings, but more gloomy than gladdening. “One thing, one thing only was needful; one word from the warm loving lips of Jesus—Peace. Blessed be His glorious name, I have many times since then heard that voice pronounce that word, and felt that when He speaks peace none can give trouble.” It was some four years after the first rousing of conscience that his soul was delivered out of bondage, under the word preached by Mr. Gosney (of Broseley) at Bridgenorth, the text being “I have a message from God unto thee.”

He was baptized by Mr. Gosney, May 7, 1815, and joined the church at Broseley. Mr. Gosney left that pastorate in 1818, and in 1821we find Mr. Jones supplying the pulpit, without any intention on his part of permanence therein; indeed, he often urged on the people to seek a pastor. They consulted thereon, and said, one to another, “It will never do for us to let this man go.” So they invited him, and, after a time, he consented. Then they wished him to be “ordained,” but this he greatly shrank from; however, they eventually prevailed, and the eminent Mr. Jones, of Llangothlen, and others, came over and duly attended to the ceremony, including the “laying on of hands.”

He still remained in the situation of clerk in some office at Bridgenorth, and walked over the eight miles to Broseley to preach, taking nothing for his services for a good while; and when, afterwards, they would raise something, he would spend it on books, &c., for the school. Indeed, I understand he never had more than £70 a year when wholly devoted to the work, and much of that he gave away. His ministry was greatly blessed, the church grew, and he grew in the love and esteem of the people.

From the commencement of the Sunday-school, in 1814, he had taken an active interest therein, and it never left his heart and mind till the day he died, sixty-nine years after.

This was, indeed, one of the most prominent features in his character—intense love of children, best shown in wise exertion on their behalf for soul and body. He had peculiar tact—a gift—for winning the confidence and affection of young people, and wonderful power to interest them in imparting knowledge. Many are now living in prosperous positions of life and useful service in our churches, who thankfully own their first start, and many steps after, to his counsel and care. None will know in time how many, in all directions of our land, and many parts of the world beside, remember him as a father and a guide.

He was never married, and it did seem remarkable that, amongst the multitude that surrounded his grave, he had no relative to join in the farewell service of mingled sorrow and song; and yet very few could better illustrate the Psalmist’s words: “Happy is the man that hath his quiver fall, &c.” (Ps. 127:4, 5).

Mr. Jones must have diligently educated himself, and from early years been—shrewd humour, keen power of argument, and, when occasion called it forth, a fine satirical pen; but ever kindly and sympathetic, except to hypocrisy, evil, and dishonouring error.

A small volume is extant, consisting of eight pastoral letters addressed to his church and congregation, with a “New Year’s Sermon to the juvenile part of the same people.” These date from May 1824 to 1832.

In 1825, also, he published a withering refutation of delusive teaching, entitled “A Letter to the Vicar of Yardley, Worcestershire, by a Calvinist.” It had a wide circulation, and produced considerable commotion. Another pointed tractate, in the same year, was “The Humble Memorial of Latent Love-peace to every Evangelical Minister of the Baptist Denomination.”

In 1839, Mr. Jones sent out a cutting satirical letter, reproving the departure from truth of professedly Baptist churches in the Midland counties, entitled “New Light; or, the Particular Baptists not particular,” &c. 

About the year 1840, Mr. Jones left Broseley, the circumstances of which I cannot now particularly state; only knowing, however, that he ever maintained the most friendly relationship, often visited the people, and in 1874 fulfilled his own yearning and their strong wish to return to his old home and resume the pastorate for the rest of his days. During the intervening years our brother preached in a great number of places—north, south, east, and west; more statedly at Enon, Chatham, and Dacre Park, Blackheath (of the building the chapel there, and early nursing of the cause, being one of the chief agents), and, in later days, at Artillery Street, Bishopsgate. 

When he first left Broseley he went to Thornton Rust, in Wensleydale,Yorkshire, where Garrow (a weaver) and Turner (a farmer) had been much blessed. Mr. Jones did not remain more than three months, but was the means of getting Mr. Wiley there from Wolverhampton, who preached for twenty years in that place, and there died.

It may truly be said that few have manifested less ambition for name and fame amongst men; his desire was to do good. He delighted in his work for its own sake and for the people’s.”The preacher sought out acceptable words (and found them), even words of truth.” Our friend was blessed with a good constitution—a clean bill of health; was ever temperate and calm, scarce ever knew an illness, and the last few years, although infirm in limb, his mind and speech were vigorous. He would say, “I feel like a young man in an old body;” and this was evidently true, for he continued preaching, generally twice a day, until eighty-eight years old, although he was obliged to do so seated. On the first Lord’s Day in last month he preached to his people in his usual fine, clear voice and earnest spirit. In the afternoon he flagged, and was too feeble to walk the hundred yards from his pleasant little home (Birch-meadow Cottage) to chapel, so wished the church to gather there for the Lord’s Supper. This they did, crowding his largest room. Hands trembled and were too feeble to break the bread or hold the cup, but he talked with them for nearly an hour in the most affectionate and instructive manner, saying he thought it must be the last time. And so it proved. The season was deeply impressive, and will be much remembered, especially by several younger brethren, who have of late years been brought in by his ministry, and give good hope for bearing the ark of the Lord. He now waxed feebler and feebler. Paralysis crept over his frame; and he was quite laid by about three weeks. But the ruling passion was strong in death; he would have the children around him. They brought him one little boy who did not return his smile—the dear little fellow felt too sad. “Why doesn’t he smile?” said the kind old man; “I smile at him.” Then they brought a younger one, and he did smile, which pleased him much. “You may all put some flowers on my grave if you want; but I do not ask you to do it.” And indeed they did. 

On the Monday—two days before his departure—he gave his last understood utterance. A deacon standing by his bedside heard him whisper, “It is no mystery now.” “What is no mystery, Mr. Jones?” “I shall see as I am seen,” he replied; “I shall know as I am known.”

On Wednesday, July 4th, he fell asleep, with a sigh; and on Sunday last we laid him in the grave, chosen by himself, in front of the meeting-house, where, sixty-five years ago, he was baptized, and almost as far back had preached the same Gospel that has been his stay and comfort to the dying hour.

By the wish of the people and many friends, the writer conducted the services, his aged deacon and close friend for seventy years (Brother Whatmore) engaging in feeling prayer. Then we sang over the grave one of his favourite hymns, commencing,

“Sons of God,

By blest adoption,

View the dead with steady eyes;

What is sown thus in corruption 

Shall in incorruption rise.”

In the evening I took for a text the passage on which his last utterance was founded (1 Cor. 12:11, 12), closing the sacred day with the hymn

“For ever with the Lord.”

S. K. Bland

Ipswich, July 14^th, 1883

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Since writing the hurried notice of my old friend in August Herald, but few facts have come to my knowledge. I have found amongst his papers a fragment relating to his early experience, written in a very trembling hand in 1879:—

“Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How, then, shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed, and how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard; and how shall they hear without a preacher; and how shall they preach except they be sent? In my soul’s great extremity I wanted to hear a preacher whom God had sent; one who could not only repeat as by rote, having learnt it from the Book, but who could preach it from the heart; a witness for Jesus taught by His Spirit, and having fellowship with Him. These words of William Huntington had met my view:—“The written is the same as the preached word, but has not the same power.’ The experience of the church sufficiently amplifies and confirms this aphorism. We bless God for the arts of writing and printing, through which truth has been spread and error exploded, but the human voice has been chiefly employed by the Holy Ghost in affecting human hearts, thus honoring men as instruments for His purpose, and in this sense ‘workers together with God.’ Men unlearned and ignorant in relation to school science have been as Jehovah’s mouth when proclaiming on the house-top the lessons brought to them in secret, and subduing every thought into obedience to Christ. The earliest teachers of the word of faith, the pioneers of the army, whose weapons are spiritual and mighty through God, were, for the most part, of the uncultured classes, it being the pleasure of our Divine Master that the foolish things of the world should confound the wise, that no flesh should glory in His presence. But He has also given to the church men of intellect and erudition, who have been valiant in His service and acceptable to their brethren. The hint I received from the renowned coalheaver quickened my desire to hear the Gospel message from lips touched by a live coal from the sacred altar (Is. 6:6), and which I might hope would be attended with more power than came with writing. I heard there was such an one at Broseley, where I had gone some time before and met with disappointment. My mind was made up at once to go and test this opinion: and on the next Sabbath I walked to Broseley, seven miles from my home, a plain little man ascended the pulpit, and, after the usual services, gave out a text (which I do not remember) on which he spoke with a warmth and boldness proper in one who has his mission and commission from Zion’s King, and who, like his Master, utters his message as one having authority, and not as the Scribes whose religious education was solely of men. In those days there were three full services on the Sabbath, and I attended the three. I knew the sound as being in strict accordance with the teachings of’ the Apostles, and of Huntington, Romaine, and Coles, but—”

And so this interesting note ends, and was apparently never continued; but from his correspondence, especially towards the close of his long life, the same devout spirit of seeking from the Word and Spirit of the Lord light, and satisfaction for his own soul, as well as authority and power to teach and comfort others with the consolation wherewith he was himself comforted of God remained.

I have received from one of the deacons at Broseley the following testimony, which he is quite competent to give:—“Mr. Jones was ordained here as pastor and on May 20, 1823. He had preached at Broseley for at least two years previously, and so continued laboring here and in surrounding villages and neighborhoods with much zeal and success for seventeen years, his ministry being much blessed, and many striking conversions taking place. He took a very prominent part in the cause of the poor and oppressed, sacrificing much peace and comfort thereby; but, in working for others good, he forgot himself, as was characteristic of him throughout life. He left Broseley in 1840, but visited the place for a month or two in each year, with but few exceptions, until the close of the year 1874, when, at the unanimous wish of the church, he returned, and has served his Master and the people faithfully to the end, spending his strength to the benefit of his neighbours in every possible way, very much to his own sacrifice. He had been a diligent teacher in the Sunday-school from its commencement in 1814, and though he had to walk seven or eight miles from his home in Bridgenorth, he was always in time to open school at nine o’clock. Neither was he satisfied with what he did and taught on Sunday, but was accustomed to rise at four in the morning to meet some young men at his house and teach them for two hours before he went to his office, and thus many have been raised to a life of usefulness both in the Church and in the world through his instrumentality.”

Mr. Jones appears to have soon taken a prominent and active position in the church, for when, in 1818, Mr. Goney relinquished the pastorate, our friend was requested to read the long explanatory letter of resignation, Mr. Goney adding:— “Do not forget that my esteemed friend, Mr. Tyler (the late deacon), when dying, called you to the office of captain, and charged you to fulfil it in the Lord’s cause. Be faithful, and you will merit the thanks of us all, and approve yourself both to God and your own conscience.” [Mr. Gosney, after about six years’ ministry at Broseley, removed to Potter’s Bar, in Herts; but for how long, or whither afterwards does not appear. In one of Mr. Jones’s diaries of many years subsequent is, however, found the following entry:—“Had satisfactory account of Mr. Gosney’s end; he died at Chatteris, Cambs.”]

I never knew anyone more clear and firm in the doctrines of sovereign grace, than Mr. Jones, nor one who felt more deeply the sinful woe of the world or the responsibility and privilege of believers to seek the salvation of men by making known to them God’s way of salvation.

More than thirty years ago I had the pleasure to be associated with him in promoting and working a small society modestly called the “London Gospel Mission.” Some preaching stations were opened, and many tracts distributed; but, alas! after a few short years, co-operation flagged; the interest of some, zealous at first, waned; and the effort, as a public organisation, ceased.

Bitterly did our old friend mourn over this, and sharper words of remonstrance I never knew him to use than on this subject. But his own Home Mission spirit was never damped thereby, nor did the practical proof of this relax while strength lasted.

But of all this, and of other features of his character and traits of mind and ministry, illustrations may perhaps be best gathered from extracts from his correspondence, which, according to the judgment of our Editor, and space at disposal, may be given hereafter, and will, I think, be found profitable.

I may just add that Mr. Jones having expressed a desire that no memorial stone should mark the place of his interment, it has been deemed a fitting mode of expressing esteem by putting his beloved chapel at Broseley in good repair.

S. K. Bland

Ipswich

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In Memoriam.—Pastor Thomas Jones

Servant of Christ, thy lengthened course is run; 

The conflict’s ended, and the rest begun.

Well hast thou borne the burden of the day, 

Until thy footsteps faltered on the way.

Long did’st thou labour with untiring zeal 

For love of Jesus and for sinner’s weal.

Thine heart aglow with love to God and man, 

Thou did’st delight to unfold the Gospel plan.

Sorely we miss thee; yet, amid our grief,

The blissful thought must give our hearts relief 

That, where thou art, no sorrow dims thy joy; 

There pleasure knows no change, peace no alloy.

Thy wearied frame for ever left behind—

No pain of body, no distress of mind;

Thy spirit, freed from its encumbering clay 

Basks in Jehovah’s smile in endless day.

Oh! could thy voice reach our delighted ears, 

‘Twould bid us stay our grief and dry our tears; 

Would bid us rise, and call upon our God,

That we may join thee in that blest abode.

In strains triumphant thou would’st sweetly tell 

His power to save, who conquered death and hell,

And, pointing us once more to Jesus blood, 

Would tell us to behold the way to God.

We leave thee resting ‘neath the wreaths of bloom’

That loving hands have woven for thy tomb

And humbly pray that God’s rich grace Divine

May grant to us a blissful end like thine.

M. A. T.