Chapter XXVII (6)

[258] The Duchess-Countess of Sutherland died in London, in February, 1839. Her remains were conveyed (in a steam-boat) to Aberdeen, to be deposited in the vault of her ancestors.

[259] Margaret Rolle, a great Devonshire heiress, the wife of Robert Lord Walpole, afterwards Earl of Orford, separated from her husband and quarrelled violently with his whole family. On the death of Lord Orford she married the Hon. Sewallis Shirley, uncle to Lady Huntingdon, from whom she also separated in 1754. She affected, at times, great friendship for Lady Huntingdon, and often attended her chapels and the preaching at her house. She was a woman of very singular character, and considered half mad; this last quality she communicated to her unfortunate son, George, third Earl of Orford, the nephew of Horace Walpole. In 1751 she succeeded, in her own right, to the baronies of Clinton and Say, on the death of Hugh, Earl Clinton. She died at Pisa, in Italy, in 1781, and was buried at Leghorn.

[260] There was something else which Walpole did not know of--a seat for Bishops. It was often occupied too! The witty and eccentric Lady Betty Cobbe, daughter-in-law of Dr. Charles Cobbe, Archbishop of Dublin, was cousin-german to Lady Huntingdon. Her influence was extensive, and frequently exerted in bringing Bishops to the chapel, whom she always contrived to _smuggle_ into the _curtained seats_ immediataly inside the door, where they heard without undergoing the dreadful disgrace of being seen in such a place. This seat Lady Betty facetiously termed “_Nicodemus’s corner!_”

[261] Amongst the number of the great and honourable who at that period frequented her Ladyship’s chapel was to be found Dr. William Barnard, formerly Dean of Rochester, but at that time Bishop of Derry, a man advanced in years, and one who professed a friendship for those who were stigmatized with the name of Methodist. It was at the recommendation of Mr. Wesley that his Lordship ordained Mr. Maxwell, the _first_ Methodist lay-preacher. Increasing infirmities obliged his Lordship to reside at Bath, where he had frequent opportunities of enjoying the society of Lady Huntingdon, to whom he was introduced by Lady Betty Cobbe. The Bishop frequently accompanied Lady Betty to hear the Methodists unseen, and was always very friendly towards the ministers who supplied the chapel. On one occasion Mr. Wesley says--“In the evening I left London, and reached Bath on Tuesday, in the afternoon, time enough to wait on that memorable man, the Bishop of Londonderry. After spending an agreeable and profitable hour with him, my brother read prayers, and I preached in Lady Huntingdon’s chapel. I know not when I have seen a more serious, a more deeply attentive congregation. Is it possible? Can the Gospel have place where Satan’s throne is?”

[262] One proof of his cheerfulness may take the form of an anecdote:--Passing through Towcester, in one of his preaching excursions for Lady Huntingdon, he asked the innkeeper where he put up, it being Saturday morning, who was the vicar, and, as he should stay the next day, whether he would be glad of assistance? “Oh! yes (said the landlord), I dare say, Sir, he will be glad to have his duty done.” “Then carry my compliments, and say a clergyman out of Yorkshire is passing, and will stay to-morrow at the inn, and is ready to read or preach for him, if he needs assistance.” Away went the innkeeper, with what he thought welcome intelligence, to the parson. “Gladly (said the vicar); but what sort of a man is the Yorkshire clergyman? There are Methodist vagrants you know--eh!” The innkeeper laughed, shook his head, and replied, “Ah! Sir, only look at his face and nose, and you will see he is not one of that sort.” In truth, a rubicundity of face and rotundity of form gave Mr. Venn no very Methodistical appearance. “Well (said the vicar), let him come to me in the morning, and then I will see whether I like him to preach or pray.” The landlord returned with the message, and the next morning Mr. Venn waited on his reverend brother. “Sir (says he, after the first bows), you are from Yorkshire?” “I am.” “Will you drink a dram this morning?” “I have no objection.” The bottle came from the closet, and Mr. Venn took a sip. His character was now decided. “Sir, you will preach for me this morning?” “With pleasure.” Robed and ready, they parted to the church, and Mr. Venn to the pulpit. There, his Bible no sooner opened, than the congregation stared, and the vicar hid his face in the surplice. The energetic truth awakened up an attention to which that congregation had been little accustomed. The vicar was done, and left Mr. Venn to retire to his inn alone. A very similar incident occurred during this visit to Bath, and is given in Mr. Venn’s Life, by his grandson. The anecdote we have just related is given verbatim from the mouth of Dr. Haweis.

[263] The Rev. John Andrews was originally of St. Mary’s Hall, Oxford, where he took the degree of LL.B. He resided in America for some years, but was obliged to return to England on account of the bad state of his health. The Archbishop of Canterbury offered him, on his coming over, a living of eighty pounds a year; but, alarmed at the laborious duties of the parish, he requested the Archbishop to give him the living of Stinchcombe, of thirty-six pounds a year, in the diocese of Gloucester, and in the Bishop’s patronage. The see of Gloucester was at that time vacant, and his Grace asked the living of the Lord Chancellor, who presented it to Mr. Andrews. In the parish of Mr. Andrews lived a Mrs. Brown, who used to exhort the people every Sunday evening in the parsonage-house, and, according to high authority, with very great power.

[264] Although the living was given to Mr. Andrews by the Lord Chancellor before Warburton was appointed to the see of Gloucester, yet he calls himself his _patron_!

[265] As he was walking early on a Lord’s-day to preach, he was accosted on the road by a clergyman on horseback, who was on the same errand, but from a different motive. The latter gentleman was complaining that the drudgery of his profession was unprofitable, for he never could get above half-a-guinea for preaching. The honest Welshman replied, that he preached for a crown. The hireling retorted and said, “You are a disgrace to the cloth.” “Perhaps (said Mr. Davies) I shall be held in greater disgrace, in your estimation, when I inform you that I am now going nine miles to preach, and have but sevenpence in my pocket to bear my expenses out and in, and do not expect the poor pittance remitted that I am now in possession of. But I look forward for that _crown of glory_ which my Lord and Saviour will freely bestow upon me, when he makes his appearance before an assembled world.” In the same way Mr. Venn, in one of his excursions to preach for the Countess of Huntingdon, while riding on the road, fell in company with a person who had the appearance of a clergyman. After riding together for some time, conversing on different subjects, the stranger, looking in his face, said, “Sir, I think you are on the wrong side of fifty?” “On the wrong side of fifty! (answered Mr. Venn)--no, Sir, I am on the right side of fifty.” “Surely (the clergyman replied) you must be turned of fifty?” “Yes, Sir (added Mr. Venn), but I am on the right side of fifty, for I am nearer my crown of glory!” This unexpected explanation damped the conversation on the part of the stranger, whilst it strikingly evinced the happy state of Mr. Venn’s mind.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have been retained as in the original.

3. Italics are shown as _xxx_.