The Life And Ministry Of Joseph Cannon

Gospel Standard 1898:

Some Account Of The Late Joseph Cannon, Minister Of The Gospel, And A Member Of Rehoboth Strict Baptist Church, New Swindon, Who Died October 21^st, 1891.

He was born at Offley, Herts., and, like all the rest of Adam’s posterity, soon manifested that the heart is corrupt. At an early age he ran away from home, and got to London. He was standing under a bridge at 4 o’clock in the morning, when a dairyman, seeing him, asked him what he was doing there? He told him that he wanted work; and when asked what he could do, he replied, “Anything.” So the dairyman gave him work, and he found a good master in him, and remained with him until he lost nearly all his cows by disease, when he told him that he must seek for a fresh place, but might stay until he could suit himself. But such was his independent spirit, that he took himself off, and never returned to fetch his clothes. After a time he got work in a brewery; and being already connected with bad company, matters went from bad to worse; so much so, that he told me he believed he had been guilty of everything that was bad, murder excepted. After a time he formed an acquaintance with a young woman whose parents were members at Gower Street Chapel, where he would sometimes go with them; and there, it seems, the arrow of conviction was sent into his heart under the Lord’s servant, Mr. Hemington. He saw and felt that the preacher was right, and his religion was right, and that if he ever got to heaven, he must have a religion of the same sort. But, unlike the Apostle, who was brought to say at once, “Lord, what wilt thou have mo to do?” he went farther into sin to try and drown it, and was permitted to follow it for about five years, but not without the terrors of the Almighty harassing him.

After a time he married the young woman referred to, but had only been married six weeks when he took himself off without saying a word either to his wife or his employers. The next that was heard of him, he was at Bristol. After wandering here and there, he got work in a brick-yard at Swindon, whither he persuaded his wife to come; but on the day she arrived he was so intoxicated that he could not go to the station to meet her, neither was there anything for her when she arrived at his lodgings. In this deplorable state he was permitted to go on. On Saturday nights, he, with others, would, after spending the evening at the pot-house, get a barrel of beer, and take to one of their homes, to spend the Sabbath-day in drunkenness and revelry.

But in the face of all this, it was impressed upon the mind of the mother-in-law that he was a vessel of mercy; and so it proved, for the Lord deepened the work of conviction, so that he had to leave his companions, and, for fear of being overcome, he never touched beer for years, and but very little ever after. There was now a wonderful change, and that scripture was verified: “God setteth the solitary in families.” Now he wanted his wife to go to bed and leave him up; but one night she thought she would creep down and see what he stayed up for, and there she found him engaged as was said of the apostle: “Behold, he prayeth.” O, the sovereignty of God! in snatching such rebels from the brink of hell. Matchless grace indeed. I may be wrong, but I have often thought that those who are kept in the paths of morality do not see the precious worth and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ as some of us do.

He now began to feel his position in temporal matters; and I feel sure that where the fear of the Lord is, it will work honesty; and if they cannot follow that injunction, “Owe no man any­ thing,” it will be a trial to them. He told me that when he was brought to an end of his mad career he was fifty pounds in debt, so that he had a heavy burden to carry. He now began to work almost night and day to pay what he owed. He was now working in the G.W.R. works, and being in the same shop as myself, I know what I am saying is true; and a more willing man to work I never knew. His living hard and working so many hours, together with the reckless life he had lived, no doubt preyed upon his constitution, but he carried it almost alone, for he thought other people had enough trouble of their own without being burdened with his. I cannot say how long he lay, in his soul’s feeling, under the curse of a broken law, but for some time I know. The portion of Scripture that was brought home with power to his soul I cannot remember, but so clear it was, that he was not easily baffled, as it were, by the enemy, and was favoured to walk in the liberty of the gospel more than any other man I have known. As it was my privilege to be much in his company, I knew many of his exorcises. The reverence for God’s holy name, the sense of his own vileness, his sad state by nature, and what he had been by practice, kept him humble in his own eyes, and Jesus Christ very high. And whether it was in the pulpit or in conversation, it was not much to him if Jesus was not the theme. Although I was his senior by several years, yet I was often surprised at his knowledge of the Scriptures compared with my own, and ofren felt afraid to open my mouth, lest he would detect my ignorance, little thinking that the Lord was preparing him for the ministry, about which he began to be exercised soon after he was set at liberty. It was with many prayers that he begged the Lord, that if it was not his will, he would remove it from his mind, and not suffer him to think anything more about it. He opened his mind to me about it. I advised him to wait and watch, and rather discouraged him than otherwise.

After a time he was asked to speak at a village near, and then at other places, until we as a church thought we ought to invite him, and hear for ourselves, which was done, and it appears the Lord enabled him to “dip his foot in oil,” and was thus made acceptable unto many of the brethren. He was requested to attend a church meeting, to give an account of his call to the ministry, which was very satisfactory. Plenty of doors were opened for him. For the most part he served the poor churches in country villages; and I verily believe that money was his last thought, and I believe that the church where he served can vouch for what I say. He was willing to spend and be spent. I often warned him against walking so many miles on Saturdays, and then again on Sunday evenings, so as to be home to go to his work at 6 o’clock on Monday morning. I believe there are many that can testify that his labours were made a blessing to their souls. He often complained of his inability to set forth the worth and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, and that he was disgusted with himself. I would our churches were filled with such men. Our week-night prayer meetings, he has told me many times, were next to his closet worship, and testified to the same in his dying moments, when he said, “God bless Rehoboth; the truth is preached there; it seems as though I shall be always looking down upon it.”

In speaking to him about the opposition he received, I advised him to try and live it down. He said, “This portion still follows me: ‘I shall still live to praise him.'” He said also, “If I were to tell the people what I enjoy sometimes when at my work, they would never believe me.” Little did either of us think what the Lord was about to do in taking him home so soon, although there were those, it seems, who thought he could not live long in such a blessed state of mind as he was in, for whether in prayer, or preaching, or conversation, Jesus Christ and him crucified was the theme of his heart. In going to and fro together to work, if I were in company with anyone who did not know these things, he would walk by and take no notice of me; and if I began to speak about the things of the world, he seemed like the apostle, dead to it. On one occasion I told him of it, when he said, “I don’t want to know anything about it.” His zeal was great, so much so, that I consider he acted beyond the bounds of prudence at times towards himself. In the winter of 1890-91, which was very severe, I believe he was going to Marshfield to preach, when he found that the roads were very slippery, so that he fell and cut his head, and then, not to give up, he pulled his shoes off and walked barefooted. But he was no mere fifty pence debtor, so that it can be said of him with the poet,“Love I much? I’ve much forgiven; I’m a miracle of grace;” and with Peter: “Longsuffering to usward.” And though charged with creature merit, I believe no man discarded creature merit and inherent holiness more than he. He was a liberal-hearted man, so much so, that I have often told him he contributed beyond his means. He would say, “I once could afford sixpence for a quart of beer.” There were some lines found in his pocket-book:

“O love divine, how sweet thou art!

When shall I find my willing heart

All taken up by thee?

I thirst, I faint, I die to prove 

The greatness of redeeming love,

The love of Christ to me.”

I find also marked in his pocket-book, John 7:18: “He that speaketh of himself seeketh his own glory: but he that seeketh his glory that sent him, the same is true, and no unrighteousness is in him.”

On August 30th was the last time he preached for us, and I can say, and some others, that it was the Bread of Life to our souls. I was enabled to bless the Lord for the word spoken; so much so, that we sung that beautiful hymn of Gadsby’s (523): “The gospel’s the law of the Lamb,” etc., and I trust I drank into the spirit of it that morning. His text was, Gal. 5:5: “For we through the Spirit wait for the hope of righteousness by faith.” Little did I think it was the last time he would preach for us. We were truly knit together in spirit, and could bless God for such portions of Scripture as these: “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us;” “This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them;” and “A friend of publicans and sinners.”

On September 20th, I believe, he was at Grittleton, and was taken ill the next day. In the evening I found him in terrible pain, when he said, “I cannot stand this long, but whether I die or live, it will be well with me. I thought yesterday I must give up attempting to speak in the name of the Lord. I can’t set him forth” (no doubt meaning, that he could not set forth the worth and glory that he saw in the Lord Jesus Christ). I visited him several times, but owing to his weak state, and my being deaf, we could converse but very little. Jesus was his theme. Sometimes the enemy thrust at him, which caused him many earnest cries to the Lord, and not in vain. He said to me after, “It’s all right now.” On the second Sabbath after he was taken ill he wished us to sing at our morning prayer meeting the 607th hymn: “Rejoice, ye saints, rejoice,” etc. We were to read the three last Psalms, which will give those who have enjoyed any measure of the same blessed realities, to judge of the state of his mind at that time. And though his complaint was inflammation of the bowels, I don’t think I ever heard him mention it after the first day. I asked him if he had any intimation as to whether he should recover or not. He said, “No; if it is the Lord’s will, I would like to be spared for the sake of the children and the church; but the will of the Lord be done.” He found that the Lord is faithful to his word, even in the things that are needful for the body. On the day he died, a friend said to him, “In that dread moment, O to hide!” He said, “No, no; ‘In that blest moment.'” He then repeated the 844th hymn: “Fountain of life, who gavest us breath,” etc.

In the afternoon it was seen that he was fast sinking. When I entered the room, he said, “John, I am going home; I long to go home; I shall soon see him I have longed to see; I shall see him before tomorrow at this time. Comfortable in his arms; comfortable in his faithfulness; comfortable in his love; isn’t he a glorious person? altogether lovely!’ Jesus Christ and him crucified.”

Mr. Russell having been sent for, came in, and wrote down what fell from his lips during his last hour, which is as follows: “No doubt most of the children of God who know me will want to know how it was with me when I came to die. I wish to say this moment, solemnly, in the sight of God, that I feel comfortable in the arms of God’s electing love and grace, which is unto all that he has made to look and long for his appearing, who is the Father and glory of my salvation, through his co-equal Son, in giving himself a sacrifice, and that we should stand complete in him. Further, how blessed it is, through life divine, to be led into this truth, and to have the application of the same to the heart, and sealed home to the soul by the Holy Spirit, who saith, ‘He hath blotted out the handwriting that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross; and having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a show of them openly.’ These, and many such things, in my dying moments, are what, through sovereign grace to a hell-deserving sinner, I am directly dying upon. But to finish up, as I cannot stand much more, the great attraction and amazing glory of all our most holy faith, is this Jesus Christ and him crucified; and (he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.’ Mr. Russell and John Willis, What think ye of Christ?” These were his last words; and thus died, in the triumph of faith, a brand plucked out of the fire.

I thought how blessedly that hymn of Toplady’s was verified—the whole of it—”When languor and disease invade,” etc. And here we see the sovereignty of God manifest in dealing with one of the most unlikely, according to our view, when some who have been kept in the paths of morality go fearing and doubting nearly the whole of their journey. “I will have mercy and not sacrifice.” 

J. W.