think would suit you." Notwithstanding he had always been desirous of learning a trade, he now felt no inclination to fall in with his mother's proposal, but said he would take time to consider of it. which are preparing by some of his oldest and most intimate friends, we shall pass over his early years; the manner of his conversion, which took place in November, 1769; his baptism in April, 1770; his joining the Baptist Church at Soham under the care of Mr. John Eve; and the debates which took place in that church, and which terminated in Mr. Eve's leaving it in October, 1771. These debates were the occasion of his turning his thoughts to many of those subjects which after-you!" He was a little surprised wards occupied his pen. The next morning, as he was going to meeting, one of the members said to him, “Friend Andrew, brother Diver has sprained his leg, and cannot be at meeting to-day; but he wished me to say to you, that he hopes the Lord will be with at this message, but still more Mr. Joseph Diver, a gar- when, after singing and prayer, dener at Isleham, a member Thomas Irons, the other deacon, and a deacon of the church at said, " Brother Andrew, will Soham, used, at the request of you read some part of the word the church, to expound the of God, and try to drop some scriptures every Lord's day. remarks as you go along?" He was a man of considerable After some hesitation, however, reading, and of great piety and he stood up, and addressed the prudence. The destitute situa-congregation for about half an tion of the church was however distressing, and occasioned no small uneasiness to our young friend, who looked forward with great anxiety to the time when they should again be blessed with a pastor. Under the pressure of this anxiety, as he was riding, on a Saturday in November 1771, to a neighbouring village, his mind fell into a pleasing meditation upon Psalm xxx. 5, Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. He was astonished at his flow of thoughts, and said within himself, "If I had any body to hear me, I do think I could preach." On his return, his mother said to him, "You have often wished for a trade; if you will go to London, I have beard of a situation, which I hour, from that text upon which he had been meditating the preceding day. After this, Mr. Diver invited him to speak again; but not enjoying the same liberty as before, he discontinued his addresses till the beginning of 1773, when, in Mr. Diver's absence, he spoke from Luke, xix. 10. This time he spoke with very great liberty: the congregation listened with much attention; and several young persons were impressed, who afterwards joined the church. His talents for public speaking having now become conspicuous, he was called to the work of the ministry January, 26, 1774. The first sermon which he preached after this was a funeral discourse, for an elder ly lady, at her own request, a member of the church.* On the third of May, 1775, he was ordained pastor. The Rev. Thomas Pilley, of Luton, began the service; the Rev. Robert Hall, of Arnsby, near Leicester, delivered the charge, from Acts, xx, 28; and the Rev. John Emery, of Little Stoughton, near Kimbolton, addressed the people, from Gal. v. 13, latter clause. When Mr. Hall, who had not been at Soham previously to this ordination, was near the town, he fell into conversation with one of its inhabitants, and asked him the name of it. The man replied, "Soham." Mr. Hall then said, "There are to be great doings at Soham tomorrow, are there not ?" "Yes,' answered he, they are going to qualify a young man to give the sacrament.' "And pray," said Mr. Hall," what kind of a man is he?" A very good kind of a man,' answered the other; but he holds with predestination: what say you to that?" "Say to that?" replied Mr. Hall; " I have somewhere met with an old author who held the same sentiment: his name, I think, was Paul." The man looked at him with some surprise, and said, I do think you are one of them.' sters, partly by reflection, and partly by reading the works of President Edwards, Bellamy, Brainerd, &c. had begun to entertain doubts concerning the Pseudo-Calvinistic system, or rather to be satisfied that it was antiscriptural. The new system has been strangely misunderstood and misrepresented. It has been supposed to be not so far removed from Arminianism as the old one was. This is a great mistake. It maintains, that election is eternal, personal, absolute, and unconditional that the peculiar blessings of redemption, purchased by the death of Christ, are limited to the elect only, every one of whom shall certainly enjoy them; that mankind are so universally and totally depraved, that they cannot be brought back to God without the drawings of the holy Spirit; that the special operations of the Spirit are invincibly efficacious, and cannot be frustrated by the rebellious will of man; and that all who are truly regenerated shall persevere in grace until it terminate in glory. In fact, the new system is little more than a revival of the old Calvinism, which subsisted before the time Hussey and the other founders of Pseudo-Calvinism. In 1776 he became acquaint- In December, 1776, he mared with Mr. (now Dr.) Ryland, ried a young woman, of respectwho then lived at Northampton, able family, named Gardiner, a and Mr. Sutcliff, who had lately member of the church. His come to Olney. These mini-income from the church and * Minute from the Church Book. "February 26, 1774, Brother Fuller baptized two persons. Conversion work now went forward, and, July 17, the Church requested him to take the pastoral care of them. This request was repeated four times; and, on February 19, 1775, it was accepted." grave. The church at Kettering had been destitute of a pastor from August, 1779. Mr. Fuller had preached at different times amongst them; and his character and talents were held by them in the highest estimation. A that congregation, and other sources, | by sickness, almost to the being very slender, and his little property gradually diminishing, he set up a school by the advice of his friends, in April, 1779, which he hoped would answer if he could procure about twenty children. But the free-school being open to all the parishioners, he had only seven or eight correspondence was kept up scholars, and therefore relin-between him and Mr. Beeby quished his school in April, Wallis, a deacon of 1780. church; and although Mr. Having had four children in Wallis, and the church at less than four years, he now Kettering did not act improperfound himself under the neces-ly towards the church at Soham, sity of informing the church it could not but be known to that his salary was insufficient Mr. Fuller how great an affecfor his subsistence. It was, tion and esteem the former had therefore, a little increased. for him, nor could he avoid The people do not appear to feeling a considerable affection have been parsimonious towards for them. He was therefore him; but they were poor: and under the influence of contendso great was his affection for ing motives. On the one hand them, that, though his talents, was his love for a people which his obscure situation amongst whom he had resided could not conceal, might have from his early years, and in whose commanded a far more com- communion he had passed the fortable situation, in a worldly whole of his religious life; and, point of view, he was determin- on the other hand, were his ined to continue with them as ability to maintain his family long as he could gain a subsist- where he was, and the hope ence for himself and his family. of greater usefulness in a more He was not, however, without extended field of action. His great discouragements. One judgment inclined him to choose member of the church, and two the latter; but his feelings, and or three of the congregation, the strong attachment of his were dissatisfied with his preach- people, inclined him to prefer ing; real religion appeared to the former. be at a low ebb; private meetings were with difficulty kept and very little was said of edification under the word. All these things, united with what he deemed the unkind behaviour of a few of his friends, greatly affected him; and, in the spring of 1781, he was brought down by sorrow, and up; In this difficulty, he laid his case before nine ministers at Kettering, who were unanimously of opinion, that it was his duty to leave Soham. In consequence of this advice, combined with other circumstances, he requested the church to expect his departure. He was obliged to summon all his resolution in order to do this. I should each write our tale, and should each sign the other's letter. I was desired to write mine first. I did so, and read it to them last Lord's day. A few expressions to which they objected, I corrected: they then acknowledged it to be a fair and candid relation of facts, but, I think, gave over answering it, or writing any thing on their part. And now the whole design of settling things by arbitration seems by them to be dropped. Poor hearts! they say, We wish you would stay, and let us have no writing about the matter.' "Since I have given them this notice, I have been at times very unhappy; sometimes I am afraid lest, after all, I should displease God in it, and that, though the way in which I go may seem right to me, the end thereof should be death. Not long since I wrote to Mr. Booth for special advice. He says, that mine is a case of right, and that that right respects my neighbour. As such, he recommends Matt. vii. 12. as my His intention had been suspected some time before. "It seemed to me," says Mr. Fuller in a letter to Mr. Hall," as if they were for reading my heart by my looks and carriage. One person, who had said much evil against me, came and humbled himself; and this set all my feelings a going in away of compassion. I wept some hours after he was gone, till I could scarcely weep any longer. I had many outgoings of heart to the Lord for direction. At length we had a church meeting, July 12, 1781. I was distressed, not knowing what to do. However, I ventured to desire the church to expect my departure from them in three months. The place was a Bochim! I can only say, I was utterly overcome. However, I then told them I was resolved, if I knew it, to do right. If any of them could prove it wrong for me to depart, I would not do it, be the consequences what they might. I said, that I did not desire to be my own judge, but was willing to sub-rule. He advises me to put mit to be determined by any two or three honest, judicious, impartial persons. The next Lord's day they consulted, and proposed to accept this plan. I was agreeable; and did not desire them to confine themselves in the nomination to ministers. They, however, nominated three ministers, who had not, that we knew of, heard of our case, and who, therefore, could not be prepossessed. I acquiesced; and proposed, as we could not have an interview with them, that the church and myself in the church's place, and some other minister in mine, and then to judge impartially, and to act accordingly. I am not quite satisfied how I should judge in such a case. Several of the people will not believe that I shall go, after all. I remain very unhappy, and suppose I shall continue so, at least, till the three months are expired, and I either go, or determine to stay.” In a letter to another friend, he writes thus, "I was requested to write my case first; I did and read it before the church | rather go softly all my years, in the following Lord's day. But the bitterness of my soul, than when they had heard my tale, which they owned to be candid, they despaired of writing, and so the design of settling things by arbitration from that time dropped. "They have since used measures more powerful: they have tried to draw with the bands of love and prayer. Silent sighs, significant looks, tender carriage, and fervent prayer. Ah! here I lose all my resolution. My heart melts, and I am utterly overcome. O what an arrow pierced my heart about a week ago, when I heard one of them in prayer, with weeping eyes, thus express himself, Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from us.' * "I am a very unhappy man. Oh! would it had never been my lot to have had to undergo the trial of a remove! such things not only kindle my affections, but my fears. I am not without my fears after all, that, if I do remove, I shall sin against the Lord, which, I think, I would do. Truly his favour to me is charge is attended with propor- We have not room here for the case of Mr. Fuller; nor for that which the church after *We here behold what the author of the Velvet Cushion calls the Religion of Barns-an appellation which also suited that of the Waldenses, and of the primitive Christians. The last sermon which Mr. Fuller preached was on April 2, 1815, from Isaiah, lxvi. 1, 2. "Thus saith the LORD, The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool: where is the house that ye build unto me? and where is the place of my rest? For all those things hath mine hand made, and all those things have been, saith the LORD: but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word." in "If God overlook the heavens and the earth, the work of his own hands, in order that he may look on his despised servants, surely he will not be detained from looking upon them by the most magnificent building erected by men. Christians, worshipping God in a barn, are themselves a building fitly framed together, and grow unto a holy temple in the Lord; whom they are builded together for a habitation of God through the Spirit,' Eph. ii. 21, 22. The same apostle also says, 'Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? 1 Cor. iii. 16. 'It is a dangerous thing to despise the servants of God; for the Lord is their avenger.' 1 Thess. iv. 6." |