Religion In America

Gospel Standard 1871:

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England’s Privileges Not Forgotten

By Sarah Jane Clegg

[In the Memoir of Mr. Kershaw, page 385, allusion is made to Mr. Kershaw’s “faithful friend and servant” (Jane). The following letter is from her, she having married after Mr. K.’S death.]

Dear Mr. Gadsby, As dear Mrs. Kershaw said in her last letter that you “always asked very kindly after me,” I take the liberty of writing you a few lines. I thank you for your kind inquiries. It is pleasant to think we are not entirely forgotten by those we so highly esteem in the bonds of the gospel, although, in the providence of God, so far removed from them and so unworthy of their thoughts.

I often feel “like a sparrow alone upon the housetop.” If we could meet with any to whom we could feel the same union of soul, we should be better satisfied with the country; but even then it would not be the same to me as my own beloved native land, and especially that part of it where the Lord first quickened my soul, and brought me into the glorious liberty of the gospel, under my late highly-honoured master, dear Mr. Kershaw. The following lines often express my feelings, when thinking of Hope Chapel, Rochdale: 

“O Zion, when I think of thee,

I wish for pinions like the dove,

And mourn to think that I should be 

So distant from the place I love.”

I must again thank you for your very handsome present. I am reading them through again, and feel, if possible, doubly interested in them, now that my lot is cast in a foreign land. Although we are not called to experience anything like what you had to endure, still there are many unpleasant things here to which we were strangers at home, especially in the summer. I wish we were so favoured as you were at S. in hearing the gospel faithfully preached; but, alas! I dare not say that I have heard a pure gospel sermon since I came. We generally attend a Strict Baptist cause about a mile from where we reside; but the preaching is far from what we desire. They have a good old man for a deacon, who used to sit under your late dear father. Like us, he is not satisfied with the preaching; and sometimes, after service, he tells the minister and the other deacons,”If Gadsby or Kershaw had been speaking from the same text they would have brought such and such things forward;” but they only smile at him; and yet, as he says, we do not know of any place where we could hear any better.

There is a vast amount of profession in America, but from what little I have seen I have a poor opinion of American religion. No doubt the Lord has many sincere followers in this country, although it has not been our favoured lot to meet with many, and I pray to be kept from the spirit of Elijah (1 Kings 19:10), remembering the Lord’s answer, verse 18.

Dear Mrs. Kershaw sent us the Memoir of our late beloved pastor. It has done our souls good to read it. We were much pleased with the Review of it in the “Gospel Standard,” which we received regularly last year. We noticed what you said about the double postage. We do not mind that, as we should not like to be without it if it cost as much again. Still we think there is great propriety in your remarks. We pray that you may have wisdom and strength equal to your day to attend to all that now devolves upon you in connexion with the “Standard.”

My dear husband desires to be kindly remembered to you. He says I must tell you there is plenty of room in America for some good sound missionaries, if such could be found, to preach the pure unadulterated truth, as there is sadly too much of the same sort of “twaddle” here you heard from the American missionary in Smyrna.

I am thankful to say we are both pretty well. My husband enjoys much better health here than in England. His health was the chief cause of our leaving our beloved land. 

Sarah Jane Clegg

Philadelphia, America, Feb. 13, 1871.

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Help From America

By “A Friend In America”

Dear Friend, I believe this is the eighth year I have been enabled to forward to you this same amount for the benefit of those dear aged pilgrims. God knoweth the motive of my heart: “Blessed is he that considereth the poor; God will deliver him in time of need.” So I have found it. The Word says, “There is that scattereth and yet increaseth.” How blessed I find it when any portion of the word of God has an abiding place in my heart, for it is sure to bring forth its own fruits.

Not till after I last wrote did I hear of the death of Mr. Philpot. I will here say I felt his death deeply. I inwardly mourned his loss in a spiritual way, until this scripture took it entirely from me, so that I could mourn for him no longer: “Who is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom we have believed?” Then I began to feel that the hand of the Lord was not shortened. O that I, too, with all the redeemed of the Lord, maybe so happy as to meet around the throne of God and the Lamb, to sing his praises, freed from this body of sin and death. How at times my soul goes out in longings for this. At other times the conflict within is so great, and sin so strong and grace so weak, that I hardly know what to think of myself, whether I am a Christian or not; and yet under these very feelings my very soul has gone out in groans and sighs and tears, begging his dear Majesty to keep me from evil and bless me; and I do trust that God has not been unmindful of my poor cries; for on several occasions within the past year, I have had words applied to my mind that have put fresh strength in me; so that, while Satan was thrusting sore at me, I could verily believe for the time that he could not prevail, because the Word of the Lord that was given me was to that very point; and when I felt I had, as it were, got the ear of the Most High, I did entreat him. to stay Satan from worrying me; and then these words were given: “Every battle of the warrior is with confused noise.” And this: “I will lift up a standard against him.” Yet Satan did not slack up; [We presume this is an American expression. It is, however, very expressive.] which caused my fears, at times, to run very high, and then I pleaded these words which were given me: “If we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.” Then I could feelingly tell the Lord, if it was more for his honour and glory, I wish to be enabled to patiently wait; and the late Mr. Gadsby gave me the key, as I read in one of his remarks on Heb. 12:11. “The blessing was in the exercise.”

May God bless the present editor of the “Standard,” and you, Sir, his servant. I do not from my heart wish anything of mine to appear in print, unless it should be well commended to your conscience. I am not ashamed to sign my name, yet I should not like to have it published.

A Friend In America

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Religion In America

By Various Correspondents

Dear Sir, I was very much pleased, on opening the April No. of the “Standard,” to find that you had commenced its history; and I feel certain that the continuation will be eagerly looked for and read with deep interest, and be warmly appreciated by your numerous readers, especially by those who, like myself, through circumstances, are shut out from the privilege of a gospel ministry.

Before emigrating to this country, I had been favoured to hear the late Mr. Philpot and other godly ministers in London; and I feel the privation very keenly in this land of sham profession and religious show. Your remarks on the March wrapper with regard to the American Baptists are painfully true, and will apply with equal force to other denominations; for they all seem to vie with each other as to which shall get up the most attractive shows, and so draw the largest numbers to their respective places of amusement; for that term is much more appropriate to many of them than places of worship would be, or churches, as they are called here; while the incessant, “Do, do!” and “Work, work!” which are thundered from the various pulpits, is most nauseating to those who are conscious that, unless everything has been done for them by the Three-One Jehovah, they are eternally lost. Also the great doctrines of the gospel are either habitually ignored or openly denied; while Romanism and infidelity appear to be each striving for the mastery.

Trusting that your valuable magazine may long continue, to the comfort, encouragement, and establishment of the living family; I beg to subscribe myself, 

Respectfully yours,

W. P.

Springfield, Illinois, U.S., May 15, 1871

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My dear Brother, I am very much obliged to you for Kershaw’s life. It is the greatest treat I have enjoyed for years. I could not bear to lay the book down; it seemed as if Mr. K. was present and I was listening to him. I called to see Mr. A. yesterday, at his office in the city. He said he enjoyed reading Kershaw very much. He said he did not know of a single minister in New York or even in America who preaches the same glorious truths that Kershaw did. A number of God’s people, who are of one heart, meet in a room every Lord’s day. The number varies from 6 to 15. They have made it a special subject of prayer for many years that the great Head of the church would send them a pastor, one who would deal faithfully; but as yet the Lord has not seen fit to answer their prayer.

You and your dear wife have a severe trial in continued illness; but no doubt it furnishes you with many errands to the throne of grace. I often heard our father say, “If God’s people had no trials, they would seldom have a real errand to the throne of grace.” I can easily believe that you have work enough to do, both for heart and hands. 

Your affectionate Sister,

M. G.

New York, May 9, 1871. 

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Dear Brother in Jesus Christ, On the wrapper of the “Gospel Standard” for March I find an article on the Baptists of America, in which you leave the readers of that very valuable pamphlet to infer that the Warburton Avenue Church in New York City is a fair sample of all the Baptists in America. It is not necessary to recapitulate what you there wrote, as any one interested can look for themselves. I should not have called your attention to it, perhaps, but I find an article in the Sept. No., just received, signed “W. P., Springfield, Illinois,” and also from a sister, signed “M. G., New York City,” in the latter of which a Mr. A. is referred to; which I presume is Mr. Axford, of that city.

I cannot believe that any child of God who has been experimentally taught what he is by nature and practice, and what he must be by grace, will wilfully wound a living member of that family, and therefore conclude that the remarks the writer has referred to are honestly entertained by the writers of them; and I am sure you would not knowingly permit a misrepresentation to appear in your work, especially when calculated to wound those that are called to travel the same road in America that the tried, tempest-tossed lovers of truth do in England. It may be well for the writer to state his opportunities for judging of what he says about the true Baptists in America and England. I am an English-man by birth, a sinner of a very bad kind by practice, slain by the law, and left for some time apparently a justly condemned outcast from mercy, but made afterwards to experience the unspeakable joys of pardoned sin, through a crucified and risen Saviour.

Thus far I was brought in 1844, in Scotland, under the preaching of Mr. Samuel Oldacre. In that year I emigrated to the United States, and have resided there in different parts since. My residence is now in the City of Cincinnati, State of Ohio, though on a few months’ visit to England. My opportunities for knowing the Baptists in America and their sentiments are considerable, having a large acquaintance with ministers of our order, and several of the churches; and I have met some thousands of lovers of the truth at their associations, and otherwise. I have also read articles contributed to the “Gospel Standard” by Mr. Kershaw, Mr. W. Gadsby, Mr. Philpot, and others, and have also heard a number of living ministers preach since my visit to England; and I here assert that though there are very few able men, yet there are a goodly number of God-called men of medium talents in America, who preach the same soul-cheering truths that Kershaw and the rest named preached and are now preaching. Until I heard some in England, I had doubts as to where some of the Baptists in England dated the moving cause of redemption; but they were enabled to show, and I think scripturally, that the whole family, in England and America, yea, in heaven and earth, were not only named but chosen in Christ, and safe in him before the foundation of the world, and that their calling in time is the resuit of that choice. The Old School Baptist ministers in America contend that this calling is a holy calling; and some of us can bless God that it is not according to our works, and that we are not kept by our own power; for we daily feel that we still carry about with us a body of sin and death, quite enough to sink us to hell if left to our own devices; and we have to begin the song on earth which, through dying love, we hope to sing in glory through eternity: “Not unto us, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory.”

I heard a Baptist minister in London preach that the Lord had established the preaching of the gospel to save souls from hell; and some hold that pardon is received in the ordinance of baptism and on its merits. Now, how would the Particular Baptists of England like to be judged by these? There are those who call themselves Regular Baptists in America who hold the same errors, and there are doubtless some in Illinois, and some who were formerly identified with the Old School Baptists who have departed from the truth and try to retain the name, and who would, if permitted, bring their errors into the churches, but I believe that at least some of them went out to show they were not of the truth. As sure as Mr. Hazlerigg and others in England preach the truth, it was preached in New York City in May last. I, of course, do not speak here of the ability of the respective ministers; but I most certainly believe that both are called of God to preach his gospel, and preach with the abilities he has given them.

I do not write this for the sake of writing, or of appearing in print. I am too sensible of my ignorance and unworthiness to have my name appear where such names as your honoured father used to appear with others of like abilities; but the cause of truth demands a notice. I wish some one else had done it, but do not know of any one in the like position of acquaintance on both sides the water. For a great many years past the true church of Jesus Christ in America has suffered from the spoiling of their goods, having lost their chapels by being outnumbered by such Baptists as are fond of show, such as fine singing and the like, and have swerved in other ways; and rather than have any confederacy with them, the true ones have left all and commenced to keep house on their own hook.

[Has not this been the case, too, in England? How different now are the churches of the Association Baptists to what they were when originally established! They did not fall all at once; but went gradually down, like a rolling stone, slowly at first, then rapidly and still more rapidly till they reached the bottom. It ought to be a warning to all true churches to clip off the first approach of error.]

You cannot find a musical instrument or a paid singer in any Old Baptist church in my acquaintance in America. They repudiate all worldly institutions, believing that the church does not need them either for use or ornament; and yet I believe that no denomination has ministers who travel so much at their own and the church’s expense as the Old School Baptists of America.

May the Lord continue to call and qualify able ministers in England, and also in America, to preach the comforting truths of salvation by free, sovereign grace to the living in Jerusalem, and still prove that he is able to keep witnesses for the truth here as elsewhere. Yours in Gospel Love,

Samuel Danes

West Bromwieh, Sept. 4, 1871.

[Our correspondent will perceive that we have curtailed and slightly altered his letter, as we frequently have to do with letters generally.]

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Forty Years In The Wilderness Of America

By John Axford

Dear Friend, For over forty years have I been living in this city of New York, having landed here, from England, on April 20th, 1831. The first year or two were spent I scarcely know how; better for me could that time be blotted out. But no; that cannot be. It remains, if I am what I hope I am, as an evidence of the truth of that blessed portion of God’s word: “Sanctified by God the Father, preserved in Jesus Christ, and called.” Kent was right when he wrote:

“There is a period known to God,

When all his sheep, redeemed by blood, 

Shall leave the hateful ways of sin, 

Turn to the fold and enter in.”

Though I was mercifully preserved from bringing a public disgrace upon myself and family, yet I was suffered in a measure (to my shame be it recorded) to prove the other lines of the poet true:

“At peace with hell, with God at war, 

In sin’s dark maze they wander far; 

Indulge their lusts, and still go on, 

As far from God as sheep can run.”

I was brought up in England under the sound of the glorious gospel, as preached by that man of God, the late John Warburton. I remember, though then only four years old, accompanying my mother to hear him when he went to Trowbridge at first; and it seems as if I could see him now, standing in the water at Lady-down Mill, addressing the crowds who were gathered around, on a Sunday morning, to witness him administer the solemn ordinance of believers’ baptism. When, with his stentorian voice, the dear man, at the commencement, spoke the word, “Silence,” every tongue was hushed, and an almost reverential stillness followed.

About the first thing I remember, which caused me to think seriously of my state as a sinner in the sight of God, was on hearing my dear father pray. He made use of this language: “O Lord, remember our children, and visit them with thy salvation, if thy blessed and holy will.” This prayer of my honoured parent I have never forgotten. It seems to have been fastened in me as a nail in a sure place, and I trust it was so fastened by the Master of assemblies. Indeed, many a time has it been a source of a little comfort to me since. A “Who can tell?” has arisen in my mind that perhaps the Lord, for his own mercy’s sake, heard and answered that petition of my father’s in my behalf. I would mention this as an encouragement to praying parents to continue to bear their offspring in the arms of their faith before the Lord; and though it be not manifested unto them during their lifetime that their pleading has been successful, yet it might be made known to others after their heads are laid beneath the clods of the valley by their children being raised up as a seed to serve the Lord, and brought in to fill their places in the church of Christ below.

“Though seed lie buried long in dust, 

‘Twill not deceive their hope;

The precious grain can ne’er be lost 

Where grace ensures the crop.”

Thus I was gradually led along, and used to love to hear the truth preached; but when I came to America I could not find it, and got into a downright (or rather downwrong) careless state. It was only through the matchless mercy and boundless love of a gracious and long-suffering God that I was not left to rush headlong to hell. I as firmly believed then that salvation was of God as I do now, and could not go to hear the Arminians preach that which was opposite. I thought I would rather turn infidel than that; and I did for a while attend the meetings of infidels which were at that time held in this city, to hear their debates on the authenticity of the Bible, &c.

In 1832, that awful scourge, the Asiatic cholera, broke out in this city, and in the providence of God I was called to work a few miles away the very day the first cases were officially reported. There my wife’s health became somewhat impaired, which made us feel dissatisfied with the place. Consequently we returned to New York city, and I again obtained a situation in the printing office I had left, having been mercifully preserved for about three months during the worst of the epidemic.

The latter part of 1833 I heard there were a few people meeting for worship in a room in a neat building in a narrow street, and a man was preaching to them who had lately arrived in America from England. The following Sunday I went, and there I heard the old sound again of salvation by grace alone; which made me feel glad. Soon, however, the question was raised in my mind, “Is it for me? Is it for me? O! What evidence have I that I am interested therein? I went again and again, and continued to attend, for I could not keep away, but could gain no satisfactory witness in my own soul that I was saved; which I was now earnestly seeking. Often, as I passed along, on my way to the meeting, the cry would go out of my heart, “O that this might prove to be the time for the Lord to speak peace to my poor troubled soul! Do, dear Lord, appear for me while hearing thy word to-day. Let thy blessed Spirit bear witness with my spirit that I am born of God. That hymn of Newton’s: “‘Tis a point I long to know,” was much on my mind, and for a long while I adopted it as my prayer. I used to change the last verse to suit my case, either morning or evening; in the latter my heartfelt cry was, time and again, 

“Let me love thee more and more, 

If I love at all” aright;

“If I’ve never loved before, 

Help me to begin” tonight.”

Wherever I might be, at home, in the street, at my work, going to meeting, or whatever else, morning, noon, or night, still may desire was to have Jesus manifested to me as my Saviour. Somehow or other I had the idea that this must occur while I was hearing the gospel preached; and this made me pray, and look, and wait, and hope for it specially at such times. But no; this was not to be so. God has his own time and way to bestow his favour.

After a long while going on in this manner, labouring, being burdened under the load of my iniquity, transgression, and sin, hoping and fearing, begging and entreating the dear Lord to deliver me, one Sunday morning, on my way home from meeting, the Lord was pleased to answer my petitions, by powerfully applying to me the words: “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.” O what light, love, and liberty I felt in my soul! “What? All sin? All sin?For me? For me?” Yes; “cleanseth from all sin.” O how I went along, blessing and praising his holy name for his delivering mercy manifested to unworthy me!

The sweetness and comfort of this visitation continued with me for some time. Often since then, however, has the enemy come in and caused me to doubt the reality of it; and when I feel the workings of corrupt nature, sin, horrid sin, boiling up within, causing me to hang my head like a bulrush, I am indeed ready to give up, and fear it was only a delusion of Satan; but the Lord has ever been more than a match for him; for when he has appeared with his hellish temptations, I have proved the lines of the poet to be true:

“Thy Lord will make the tempter flee, 

And as thy days, thy strength shall be.”

Many a hard struggle have I had with him, but he has never been permitted to entirely beat me out of the reality of my deliverance. The nearest he ever came to it was some few years ago. I had a singular dream one night. I dreamt that I was in a very strange place, where there was something looking like a large boiling cauldron at one end, and all of a sudden a man appeared, took me up, and carried me along to throw me in; but just as he reached the spot, and was about to cast me off, I awoke. I had been labouring and struggling in my sleep, and on awakening the blood seemed to turn cold in my veins. O what awful feelings I had all that day, and for a part of the next! I feared I had been altogether deceived in the profession I made, and that the cauldron represented hell, with the enemy telling me that was to be my portion after all. A “horror of great darkness” seized me, and I went moping about, not able to attend to my business. “A day and a night was I in the deep,” mourning my wretched condition, and could find no rest. The next day my mind felt a little relief from a friend calling to see me, to whom I communicated a little of what I was experiencing, when he replied, “It is only for the Lord to speak a cheering word to you; that is all you need to make matters right with you again. You are not in as bad a state as you might be, for you feel it, and are enabled to cry for deliverance from it.” Soon my heart was a little softened, hope sprang up, and I was led to beg to be brought out of that fearful condition. I trust the Lord the Spirit enabled me to reason thus: “Can it be that I who have been so long a member in the church, can it be possible that I have been all these years in a deceived state? I am, the Lord knoweth I am, honest in what I have professed. I abhor hypocrisy in every sense, and in soul matters especially it is of the utmost importance to be right. What has made the difference between me and so many others to what there was once? Surely the devil would not do it; the world and wicked men would not; my own evil heart could not. Then who hath made thee to differ? And what hast thou that thou hast not received?” The only conclusion I could come to was, it must be of the Lord. Hope revived in my breast that after all my doubting, and fearing, and misgivings I should be brought off conqueror at last by the mercy of God. Here that sweet hymn of Beddome’s came in:

“Great God, to thee I’ll make

My griefs and sorrows known, 

And with a humble hope 

Approach thy awful throne.

Though by my sins deserving hell, 

I’ll not despair, for who can tell?”

Thus the Lord again appeared for me, and “brought me out of that horrible pit and miry clay, established my goings, and put a new song in my mouth, even praise to his holy name.” Many a time have I been encouraged and comforted by that hymn (622), written by the late Mr. Gadsby, when reading it to be sung in our meetings:

“Poor fearful saint, be not dismay’d, 

Nor dread the dangers of the night; 

Thy God will ever be thy aid,

And put the hosts of hell to flight.”

I have proved its truth over and over again, to the honour and praise and glory of the covenant-keeping God of Israel. But let me return.

The Lord was graciously pleased to call my wife out from the Wesleyan Methodists, and bring her to see the truth of his sovereign grace in the salvation of elect sinners; so that we could see “eye to eye” in the doctrines of the gospel. This was a very great comfort to me, and we were both baptized and united with the church on the same day, July 5th, 1835.

Passing a number of trials and difficulties, experienced during the next few years, I come to two very severe ones. In 1839, I was out of a situation; and, not finding anything else to do, I opened a small place for the sale of newspapers and other periodicals. Succeeding very well in this, an entirely new business in America, I gradually added stationery, &c., and everything appeared to be prospering with me temporarily; but little did I think what the Lord was about to bring on me and mine. My daughter, four years old, was taken very ill, and my son, about three months old, was taken down with scarlet fever; neither, to all outward appearance, was likely to recover. At that time there was a greater fear and dread here of that disease than there is now; consequently, when it became known that the scarlet fever was in the house, almost every one forsook us. Even the woman hired to assist in household work became frightened and fled; so that I had to shut up my little shop in order to wait upon my sick family. What a strait I was now in! For several days I knew not what I should do. The Lord, however, manifested his goodness to us by mercifully blessing the means used for their recovery, and also preserved me from taking the disease; so that I was enabled to go on with my business. But O how little, little gratitude did I at that time feel toward him for his sparing mercy!

Things appeared to be prosperous with me for the remainder of that year; yea, they were so, and I was, humanly speaking, in a fair way to obtain a good living for myself and family. On the night of Jan. 7th following (1840), we all retired to bed as usual, my wife’s brother being with us. Soon after one o’clock the next morning, my wife awoke me, saying there was smoke in the room. Perceiving the light was out (we always kept a light burning through the night), I arose, and tried to get another, but found the smoke was so dense it extinguished the light immediately. I then opened the door, thinking to go down stairs, but the smoke rushed in, closing up the avenue down, and the only way we could escape was out of the window. There were no fire-escapes here at that time. I raised the window and gave an alarm, which soon brought some of the neighbours round, who called on me to jump down. I informed them my family were there, and I must have them out first; but how I could not tell. At length some barrels were procured and placed one upon another, forming a foothold for me while being held up by those below; so that we were enabled to get out, and were lifted down in safety from the devouring element, although we were all nearly suffocated; and it was several days before the effects of it were removed from us. The weather on that morning was very severe; rain, hail, and sleet were falling, and freezing as they descended. As we could only put on a part of our clothing, my wife and infant being wrapped in a blanket, it was through abounding mercy that our lives were spared. My family were necessarily separated, my wife and babe being in one place, my daughter in another, my brother-in-law somewhere else; and myself almost bewildered, so that I scarcely knew where I was. The flames had made so much headway before the fire was discovered that we were not able to get anything out, and it was all destroyed, with no insurance, as then I had hardly thought of insuring against loss by fire. We had 83 dollars of silver coin in a bag, which my wife handed to me at the window. I laid it down on the sill, while we got her and the children out, but what became of it I never knew, not having heard of it since.

Then I had to begin business anew, and nothing to do it with. On the following Friday, when the weekly papers were generally issued, I went to the different publishers and asked them to let me have some papers to sell, and I would pay for them when they were sold. To my astonishment, with one exception, they told me to come and take all I needed for that week, and they would not charge me anything for them. I thankfully accepted their kind offer, took my stock-in-trade, obtained some old boxes, and used them as a counter in the ruins of the burnt building, and opened shop there the next morning. The editors of the papers gave “a first-rate notice” of the same in their publications of the day, my bountiful Benefactor having gone before me in the way. O the goodness of God manifested to unworthy me! My heart softens when I think of it, and my eyes are well up with tears while I write of gratitude to Him for his providential mercies. He sent me customers from all parts of the city and suburbs, and nearly all paid more than the regular price for the papers, some throwing down a silver half dollar, others a silver 25 cent, piece, taking up a paper, and passing along without taking any change. Thus I was supplied gradually with funds to go on with my little business.

The fire was at No. 170, Broadway, which was entirely burnt down. No. 168, the next house, was much damaged, but still left in such a state that it could be repaired, which was done, and then myself and family moved into it, and there we were sustained for 20 years.

In 1844, I left my family and went on a short visit to England, and while in London effected an arrangement with the late Mr. Paul, of Paternoster Row, to have the “Gospel Standard” and other works sent to me. I returned, having been absent 12 weeks, and through mercy found all well, my business having been properly attended to by my wife and her brother. Before leaving, I had hoped while in England to have the privilege of hearing some of the gospel ministers in that highly-favoured land. But ah! How was I disappointed! By the time I arrived there, a spirit of carelessness and indifference came upon me, so that I lost all my longing desire for the things of God. It is true, while there I did attend once to hear each of those highly-esteemed men of God, the late Mr. M’Kenzie and Mr. Philpot; but “so foolish and ignorant was I,” I know not now even the texts they preached from. O what a barren time was it to me.

On my return I endeavoured to introduce the “Gospel Standard” to my Christian friends, and any whom I could prevail upon to read it. I commenced the agency with about half a dozen copies, if I remember rightly; but what up-hill work it has been to circulate the number I do now, 150 monthly. Many times, from the difficulties I have met with, yes, from both friend and foe, have I been tempted to abandon it, and give it up as a hopeless case; but when a new number has arrived, and I have sat down and read it, perhaps in the hearing of my wife, and its precious contents have been blessed to our souls, we have enjoyed it so that thankfulness and praise to God flowed from our hearts for the glorious truths with which it has been filled. Again and again have I been encouraged to endeavour to circulate it, and thus am enabled to do to the present day, notwithstanding all the opposition to the here much-despised doctrines of the gospel it advocates. My heart’s desire is that the work may be sustained, and that for all time the dear Lord may in mercy raise up one champion for the truth after another to conduct it, so that the “Gospel Standard” may ever be unfurled, and every “feeble Christian” into whose hands it may fall prove it to be indeed a “support” while in this wilderness below. While so much emanates from the press, under the guise of “religious publications,” “teaching for doctrines the commandments of men,” contrary to the word of God, may that continue to be a standard around which the Lord’s people can rally without any fear of being led astray. We who are brought to believe, and therefore obliged to contend, that salvation is all of grace from beginning to end, are charged by the enemies of the truth, the truth as it is in Jesus, with being careless and indifferent to those who are without; but, if I may be allowed to judge in such matters, at any rate I speak for myself, when I can hear, even though it be faintly, the bleatings of the lambs of Christ’s fold, I tell you, friend, it makes my poor heart ready to leap (as John the Baptist did in his mother’s womb) for joy. The hearts of the Lord’s people are indeed glad when they witness his power made manifest in bringing sinners to a knowledge of themselves, as they stand in the Adam-fall transgression, to seek for life and salvation through a once crucified but now risen and exalted Prince and Saviour, and especially when they give evidence that Jesus “Christ is formed in the heart the hope of glory.” O with what warm hearts and open arms do the children of God receive them into their fellowship and affection! Thus the charge of our enemies is ever proved to be a false charge. How very seldom is this privilege granted to us here in America! No doubt you sometimes read very glowing accounts on paper of what the religious folks are doing here; but I want to witness the Lord’s work, and pray that he would raise up and thrust forth faithful labourers, those who will prove to be indeed “sons of thunder,” and also “sons of consolation” where needed. May our all-conquering Lord 

“Gird on his sword upon his thigh; 

Hide with majestic sway;

Go forth with power triumphantly, 

And make his foes obey.”

O send out thy light and thy truth with life and power in our midst, and cause stubborn sinners, both professing and profane, to bow to thy sovereign sceptre, and acknowledge thee as their God and Saviour.

The little church with which I first united did not exist long, and I was soon thrown as it were into the world again. I wandered about hither and thither for some time, seeking for truth, and at length joined the Old School Baptists. Here I hoped I had found a home, as they hold the prominent points of the doctrine of the gospel as I understand it; and there is every reason to believe there are many, if not the most, of the manifested children of God connected with them. I continued there until 1850, when troubles arose in the church, which time and space forbid me to enter on further here. It ended in a division, and another cause was commenced, a church was formed, myself one of the number, and the late Mr. James Manser was chosen as pastor. That cause continued only about two years. Mr. Manser died, the little church went down, and the few members were again scattered. (Some account of Mr. Manser’s death appeared afterwards in the ” Standard.”)

Soon after the death of my friend Manser, the Lord, in his inscrutable wisdom, saw fit to severely afflict me again in my family, and in March, 1854, removed by death, after a few days’ illness, my second son, twelve years of age. This was another very cutting stroke, but in much mercy I was sustained under it by those words of Job: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” In the same year (1854) my wife was also taken very sick, and for some time her recovery appeared very doubtful; but the Lord graciously heard prayer, and mercifully restored her to her wonted health. However, I have proved the truth of Bunyan’s couplet:

“The Christian man is never long at ease;

When one plight’s gone, another doth him seize;”

for it was only a short time before another severe trial came upon me in the sudden illness of our infant daughter. I was from home at the time she was taken, in the state of Virginia, when I received a letter informing me that, if I wished to see her again alive, I must return immediately, as the child was very low with the cholera infantum. I had between 300 and 400 miles to travel, and could not leave until nine o’clock next morning. I commenced preparations for the undertaking at once, but my poor mind was so much agitated and restless that I scarcely knew what I did. At the stated time I started, with my soul led out to the Lord that he would in mercy be graciously pleased to hear my cry, and spare my child at least till I arrived home. “O! “What shall I do?” thought I. “How shall I be able to bear it, if the little one is taken before I get there?” Many were the petitions put up by me during the 22 long hours I was on that journey, that whatever he should see fit to call me and mine to pass through to try us, he would bless us with resignation to his divine will, and then all would be well, come life or come death. The Lord mercifully granted my desire, and preserved her life for three weeks after I returned. She breathed her last Sept. 13th, 1854.

“The dear delights we here enjoy, 

And fondly call our own,

Are but short favours borrow’d now 

To be repaid anon;”

and, therefore, I wish to hold them with loose hands, so that I may be ready to resign them to the sovereign Giver, when called for, without a murmuring word. Nothing but the Spirit and grace of Jesus, I am fully persuaded, can enable any to do so. My dear wife, the partner of my joys and sorrows, had as much as she could well endure, it being so soon after the death of our boy and sickness of herself; and were it not that the Almighty was better to us than all our fears, we should have both sunk. While in tribulation, I find it to be very hard work to feelingly say, “Thy will be done,” yet I would bless his holy name for giving me the desire to do so. Thus, you will perceive, in that year, 1854, I had trouble upon trouble roll over me. What a mercy, I often am led to think of it, that the God who keepeth Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps; and to his honour and glory alone would I state it, though I have been many times “cast down, but not destroyed,” and though oft the following suits me:

“My soul, with various tempests toss’d, 

Her hopes o’er turn’d, her projects cross’d, 

Sees ev’ry day new straits attend,

And wonders where the scene will end,”

yet, through the abounding mercy of God in Christ, I have been hitherto sustained, and once in a while am mercifully blessed with a good hope that if the “earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, I have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”

David says, “Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy; to deliver their soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine.” Here I am also encouraged; for, if the question were put to me, “Do you fear the Lord?” I dare not answer, “Nay.” And if the other, “Do you hope in his mercy?” I must say, “Yes.” He certainly did, literally, deliver me and mine from death during the late civil war in this country, and especially when the awful riots occurred in this city in that war-time, when the wicked were let loose here, with blood, and carnage, and destruction surrounding us. Scarcely any rest could we have for three dreadful days of reigning terror and sleepless wearisome nights of fear, “three days of terror” indeed were they for us, houses within our sight being ransacked, their property taken away or destroyed, and the owners obliged to flee for their lives, and we fearing every moment it might be so with us; yet we were providentially preserved, no depredations being made upon us.

Again. Spiritually, many of these forty years in America have been years of famine, “not of bread nor of water, but of hearing of the word of the Lord.” O, how often have the lines of Watts been mine during those times:

“With long desire my spirit faints

To meet the assemblies of thy saints,”

but I could not find those assemblies. It has been a famine to me indeed, in this respect; but the Lord has verified his precious promise, and I have been and still am kept “alive in famine.” My prayer is,

O Think Of Me.

O gracious Father, God of love,

Descend from thy bright throne above,

And draw my mind from earth to thee;

For this I cry, O think of me.

O blessed Jesus, now on high, 

Clothed in thy robes of majesty, 

My feeble voice I raise to thee,

And humbly say, O think of me.

O Holy Spirit, “Paraclete,”

Come thou and guide my erring feet 

From this wide wilderness to thee, 

And do, I pray, O think of me.

Almighty, glorious, sovereign God, 

Whose power extends to all abroad, 

Thou great, mysterious One-in-Three, 

I humbly pray, O think of me.

When I am dark and feel cast down, 

And on me all things seem to frown, 

My voice then let me raise to thee, 

And steadfast cry, O think of me.

But should the Lord hedge up my way, 

And heavy troubles on me lay,

In every trial may I see

That thou, my God, dost think of me.

When in affliction’s path I tread, 

And cannot rest my aching head, 

Weary and sad though I may be, 

I still would pray, Remember me.

If call’d to bear the cross and shame, 

Still let me trust in thy dear name; 

And to that tower of strength then flee, 

With this request, O think of me.

The situation of this city (New York), naturally, is pleasant, but (spiritually) the water is nought and the ground barren. O for some messenger of the Lord of hosts, with a new cruse and salt therein, to go forth to the spring of the waters and cast the salt in there, with a “Thus saith the Lord, I have healed these waters.” I feel satisfied there are, in and near here, enough individuals who love the truth, and who are willing by their means to sustain it, if there were a Spirit-taught minister of Christ’s gospel to go in and out before them. The Beulah Particular Baptist church was organized here in June, 1858. Since then we have passed through many difficulties, troubles, and afflictions, in a church capacity; and though we have been divided and subdivided, a little “people scattered and peeled,” there are still a few of us left to keep up meeting together on Sundays and Thursday evenings; but we have no pastor. We assemble, and endeavour to worship God, in singing, prayer, reading his word, and sometimes have a sermon of some man of truth read; and often, though very few in number, we have found it good to wait upon the Lord.

Now, my dear friend, I must conclude. I feel, after all, that the language of Jacob to Pharaoh suits me: “Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been.” All my springs are in Jesus; when he says with power, “Seek my face,” then it is I do seek; when he in love draws me, then it is that I can run after him.

“But if he his strength withhold, 

I faint, I droop, I sink.”

I am, Yours in Hope,

John Axford

New York, June 30, 1871. 

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God Is Not Without His Witnesses

By Eliza Clark

Dear Sir, After reading the letter in the “Gospel Standard” for September, I felt as if I should like to write and tell you that God is not without his witnesses even in dark America. I know a few men that preach the same glorious truths that Mr. Philpot, Mr. Kershaw, and others did. There are a few people who formerly belonged to the Old School Baptists, but were separated a few years ago, who now meet in Bennett’s Hall, Middletown. Mr. F. P. Walker, formerly pastor of Beulah church, New York, but now residing in Middletown, preaches for them every Lord’s day, except occasionally, when.he preaches in New York, for a few that left the Beulah church with him. I have heard others as well as myself remark, who have read Mr. Philpot’s sermons, that Mr. Walker preaches more like that dear man of God than any we ever heard or read of. He contends that true religion must begin and be carried on in the power of God; and because he is a sound searching preacher of the truth as it is in Jesus, he is accused by some of making the path too narrow.

Eliza Clark

Middletown, Orange County, New York, Sept. 29, 1871.