BY THOMAS RAFFLES, lo snigend of EIS SUCCESSOR IN THE PASTORAL OFFICE. pos davesta hotzagab aled! to obxallusz PREFACE. THE Volume now presented to the public, owes its origin to one of those mysterious events in Providence, which seem commissioned, at distant intervals to alarm and admonish the church of God. A loss so sudden, so awful, so universally deplored as that of Mr. Spencer, demanded improvement. Many impressive discourses were delivered on the sad occasion, several of which have issued from the press. But his life was not less instructive than his death; and the more it was contemplated by his friends, the more deeply they felt the importance of rescuing from oblivion those traits of his character, and circumstances of his history, by which their own private circles had been interested. Upon my acceptance of the solemn office from which he was so unexpectedly removed, his bereaved people, anxious to see some authorized memoirs of their beloved pastor embodied and preserved, committed the mournful duty to my hands. My respect for the honored dead, and attachment to the living, induced me to accept the charge: how I have executed the important trust reposed in me, I must now leave it with a candid public to decide. Various causes have contributed to create the delay which has attended the publication of the book. It was with considerable difficulty that I collected the materials necessary for my purpose. I had imagined, from the general impression which prevailed, at least among Mr. Svencer's friends, of the propriety of such a publication, that information would have been spontaneously offered from every quarter whence it might be furnished. But in this I was disappointed; and it was some considerable time from the annunciation of my design, before I was sufficiently supplied to commence, with any degree of prudence, the composition of the volume. In addition to this, the laborious duties of a new and most extensive charge, conspired often to suspend the prosecution of the work, for the appearance of which I knew many to be anxious, but none more so than myself. Had I at first anticipated the extent of these Memoirs, I should most probably have shrunk from the undertaking. But the volume has grown almost imperceptibly beneath my hand. What I have recorded of the dear departed is strictly true, so far as the veracity of the most excellent men can warrant the assertion; and whatever opportunity the narrative has afforded of administering instruction I have gladly seized, and conscientiously improved, leaving the issue to a higher agent. I have at length completed the work; and now, with the deepest humility and diffidence, I resign it to the blessing of God-the consideration of friendship-and the candor of the public. If to those who knew and loved him, it shall sometimes recall, with grateful emotions, the image and the excellencies of their departed friend; if it shall induce any to emulate the bright example of his manly virtues, and his Christian graces; or if but one, anticipating or commencing the laborious duties of the Christian ministry, shall derive from the contemplation of Spencer's character, instruction, caution, or encouragement-I am amply recompensed—I have not labored in vain! THOMAS RAFFLES. TOXTETH PARK, LIVERPOOL, February 15, 1813. period this melancholy circumstance produced upon his tender mind. "When the funeral sermon was preached I could not help noticing the grief which seemed to pervade every person present. Deeply affected myself, I recollect, that after the service, as I was walking about our little garden with my disconsolate father, I said to him, Father, what is the reason that so many people cried at the meeting this afternoon.'-He, adapting his language to my comprehension, said, "They cried to see little children like you without a mother.'"* This event, which shed so deep a gloom upon his family, seems to have excited emotions of a serious nature in his mind never totally effaced. From this time he applied himself with diligence and delight to the business of his school. There was at this early age something amiable and engaging in his manners; and this combined with his attention to his learning, soon secured the esteem and approbation of his respective teachers, and gained him, together with the first place and highest honors of his school, the charecter of "a good boy." It is pleasing to mark the early combination of superior talent and sweetness of disposition in this extraordinary young man; and it would be well, did the patrons of early genius more deeply ponder the reflection, that the graces of a meek and quiet spirit are far more estimable than the rare qualities of a prematurely vigorous mind; and that the talents they cultivate with such anxious care, if unassociated with real excellence of soul, may render the idols of their fond adulation sources of anguish to themselves and incalculable mischief to mankind. SELDOM has a task so painfully arduous fallen toner he recalls the impression which at that early the lot of a biographer, as that which, in the mysterious providence of God, has unexpectedly devolved on me. The recollection of departed excellence, which a long series of years had developed and matured, is mingled with a melancholy feeling, and not unfrequently excites the tribute of a tear: but the individual who erects a monument to friendship, genius, usefulness. and piety, prematurely wrapt in the oblivion of the grave, must necessarily prosecute his mournful work with trembling hands, and with a bleeding heart. And yet the mind is soothed by the communication of its sorrow; the bosom is relieved of an oppressive burthen, while it tells the virtues of the friend it mourns; and the best feelings of the heart are satisfied with the consciousness, that instead of indulging in solitude, the luxury of unavailing grief, it has employed its powers to portray, in lively colors, for the improvement of the living, the excellencies of the beloved and pious dead. For myself, with mournful pleasure, I hasten to sketch the rude outline of one of the loveliest and most finished characters the present age has known-pausing only to express my deep regret, that one so ripe for heaven, and yet so eminently useful upon earth, should be called from the important sphere he occupied, so soon; and that to hands so feeble should be committed-together with the solemn trust which he resigned in death, the painful duty of erecting this monument to his worth. THE REVEREND THOMAS SPENCER, was born at Hertford, January 21, 1791. He occupied the third place out of four who surrounded his father's table, but shared equally with them in the tender and af fectionate solicitude of parents, who, placed in the middle sphere of human life, were respectable for their piety, and highly esteemed in the circle in which a wise Providence had allotted them to move. It cannot be expected that any thing peculiarly interesting should mark the early childhood of a youth, retired from the observation of the world, and far removed from the presence of any of those circumstances which might be considered as favorable to the excitation of latent talent, or the display of early genius. And yet the years of his infancy and childhood were not undistinguished by some intimations of a superior mind, from which a thoughtful observer might have been induced to augur something of his future eminence, and which his amiable father it appears did with silence watch. He himself observes, in a hasty sketch of his life, which now lies before me" As far back as I can recollect, my memory was complimented by many as being very retentive, and my progress in knowledge was more considerable than that of my school-fellows; a natural curiosity and desire of knowledge, I think I mav say, without vanity, distinguished even the period of my infancy. I now remember questions that I asked when about four years old, which were rather singular, and which were confined chiefly to biblical subjects. No child could be more a'tached to places of worship, or could be more inquisitive about their concerns than myself; and I may add, more given to imitate the actions of the minister and clerk." When he had completed his fifth year, he suffered the severest earthly privation a child can know, in the loss of an affectionate mother. Though then too young correctly to appreciate a parent's worth, he deeply felt the stroke; and in the liveliest man MS. Memoirs. Whilst a school boy, he became passionately fond of novels, histories, adventures, &c. which he devoured with the greatest eagerness in numbers truly astonishing. The perusal of these he always preferred to play and other amusements adapted to his years. He delighted much in solitude; nor did he know a happiness superior to that of being alone, with one of his favorite books. He took no delight in the games of his companions, nor did he ever mingle in their little feuds. His natural levity, however, was excessive; and his wit, fed by the publications he so ardently perused, would often display itself in impurity of language to the laughter and amusement of his fellows. Yet he was not without his moments of serious reflection, and that of a very deep and dreadful kind.-He was often overwhelmed with religious considerations, and the solemn sermons he sometimes heard, filled him with terror and alarm. So intolerable at one period were the horrors of his mind, that in an agony of despair, he was tempted, as many have been before him, to destroy himself. Thus at an early age he became intimately acquainted with the depravity of his na-' ture; and from the deep waters of spiritual distress through which he was called to pass, his soul imbibed an air of humility and a habit of watchfalness, which enabled him to meet with firmness the dangers of popularity, and to maintain a steady course, notwithstanding the press of sail he carried. To these deep convictions of his early years may perhaps be traced the peculiarly pressing and em passioned manner of his address, when he strove to arouse the slumbering conscience, or direct the weary wanderer to the cross of Christ. The sacred poems and the passages of holy writ, which most MS. Memoirs. he loved, were those of a cast similar to that of his own fervent mind; and I have heard many tell, with tears, of the animation and rapture with which he would often repeat from that beautiful hymn of Henry Kirke White, his favorite author, whom in many shades of character he much resembled, and alas! too much in his early and lamented fate Once on the stormy seas I rode, The storm was loud, the night was dark; Deep horror then my vitals froze ; Death struck, I ceas'd the tide to stem, When suddenly a star arose, It was the star of Bethlehem. It was my guide, my light, my all, Now safely moor'd-my perils o'er, The star!-the star of Bethlehem. service to the memory of his departed friend, by occupying their place with extracts from his papers of a more solid and interesting kind. These early displays of talent however introduced him to the notice and friendship of some individuals of wealth and consequence. This was doubtless considered by himself and his fond parent as no inconsiderable circumstance in the history and prospects of a child, who, if he rose into eminence at all, could have no facilities afforded him, by the auspicious omens of his birth, or the rank of his father's family. But alas! the fond anticipations which from this quarter he cherished, and perhaps with some degree of reason, were not all realized, to the full extent to which his sanguine mind had urged them. It was doubtless well for him, however, that they were not. The disappointments of childhood will give a sober cast to the else too glowing pictures and too anxious hopes of youth; and while they excite a caution in respect to the confidence we should place in the prospects that unfold themselves before us, admirably prepare the mind for the event, when the pledges of friendship lie long unredeemed, and the fair blossoms of hope are blasted and destroyed. In the mean time he applied himself with surprising diligence to the acquisition of knowledge. In his favorite pursuit he met with the most important aid, from the valuable friendship of the late The bias and inclination of his mind began at Rev. Ebenezer White, then the pastor of the Indethis early period to be disclosed; preachers and pendent church, at Hertford. For this amiable and preaching seemed to occupy all his thoughts, and pious man, so early lost to the church of Christ, often he would exercise himself in addressing such Mr. Spencer ever cherished and expressed the domestic congregations as may be supposed to con- warmest affection; whilst he survived but a few stitute the usual auditories of an infant. Thus in weeks the melancholy pleasure of paying the last his earliest childhood he displayed his fond attach- tribute of respect to his beloved remains, and giving ment to the Christian ministry, and the first efforts utterance to the warm and authorized feelings of of his infant mind were directed to that sublime and his heart, in a most impressive oration at his grave. dignified profession, in which the capacities of his From Mr. White he learned the rudiments of the maturer age were so brilliantly displayed. These Latin tongue; and though the early removal or that infantine compositions were not unfrequently en- gentleman to Chester deprived him of his kind and tirely his own; and when they claimed not the me- valuable assistance, yet his father, who had discernrit of originality, they were derived from hints col- ment to perceive, and wisdom to foster the unfoldlected from what he had heard or read. But his ing talents of his son, afforded him the means of Preaching exhibitions could not long be confined to more ample instruction, by sending him to the best the narrow circle and scanty congregation his fa- school his native town supplied. Approbation canther's house supplied; tidings of his early pulpit not be expressed in language too unqualified of the talents soon circulated through the neighborhood; conduct, in this respect, pursued by the parents of many were anxious to listen to the instructions of this amiable youth, who though surrounded by every this extraordinary child; and most regarded him, circumstance of a worldly nature to check its proas he himself expresses it, "a parson in embryo." gress, yet nobly determined to afford every degree At this age also he wrote verses. He seems how-of culture, which such sacrifices as they might be ever, to have had but a mean opinion of his talent for poetry. It certainly was not the art in which he most excelled. Though an individual may have a power of rhyming sufficient for throwing his feelings into tolerable easy verse, yet something more than this is required in a production which, under the dignified title of a poem, is to meet the public eye. And while most men of an enlightened mind and cultivated taste, have solicited the muses' aid for purposes of private instruction and amusement, and the domestic and social circle have been privileged to share in both, yet it is not necessary to the perfection of the pulpit orator, that he should be an exquisite poet, nor is it at all a detraction from the greatness of his character, that the world should hesitate to pronounce unqualified praise upon poetical effusions, on which the eye or the ear of friendship might linger with delight. These observations will serve to account for the circumstance, that none of Mr. Spencer's poetica! productions are preserved in these pages. And while some partial friends, who saw with pleasure the pieces which circulated in private, may regret for the moment their entire exclusion here, his biographer hopes, that he shall render a more essential Nor able to make would yield to a mind which promised * Mr. White died Sunday, May 5th, 1811. An interesting memoir of his life (together with his select remains) has been published by the Reverend Joseph Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn; with a recommendatory preface, by the Rev. Dr. Collyer, of London. In the melancholy but pleasing task of selecting these papers for the press. Mr. Fletcher was originally joined by the subject of these memoirs :-but whilst Mr. Spencer was thus engaged in rearing a monument to the memory of his departed friend-he too was suddenly removed, and it devolved upon the hand of friendship to perform the same office for himself. ed emolument on that of the child, for its cultiva tion Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. another. Ill does the mind adapt itself to the narrow rules of business, the drudgery of manual labor, or the habits of commerce, when panting after study, devoted to the love of books, or eager to engage in the noblest work that can occupy the powers of man-the ministry of the gospel: impressed with a consciousness, that if it is the will of God that the desire enkindled and cherished in the bosom should be fulfilled, some event will transpire to afford facilities and point the way-but day after day expecting that event in vain, till hope deferred makes the heart sick, and all the visions with which she has charmed, seem gradually yielding to the influence of despair. Yet even here, religion has a power to sooth; she sheds the mild influence of resignation, when the glare of hope is gone— "Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot." suitable, they set out for London, but upon an interview with the advertiser they found insuperable difficulties in the way, and returned, with disappointment, to Hertford. At about the age of twelve years, Mr. Spencer considers himself to have become the subject of serious impressions of a deep and permanent kind, and to have felt something experimentally of the power of religion. This most interesting circumstance he simply states in the memoir of his life before referred to, but mentions no particulars respecting the mode in which these impressions were wrought upon his mind, or in what way they operated upon his character, his conduct, and his views. The general effect, however, he distinctly records to have been that of heightening his desire of the He continued working at his father's business and Christian ministry, for which, it was strongly im- in his father's house, for about a year and a half, pressed upon his mind, God had destined him; anxiously expecting some situation to present itself whilst it reconciled him to his present situation, more congenial to his wishes, but no circumstance which was most uncongenial to the bias of his mind, arose to interrupt the monotonous sameness of his and most unfriendly to the accomplishment of his every day's employ. It seems, however, that he ardent wishes; for the circumstances of his father's still attended to the cultivation of his mind, and family were at that time of such a nature as to ren- never wholly lost sight of the Christian ministry. der his assistance necessary between the hours of Meanwhile business languished, and his father was school, and at length compelled his parent, how-desirous of seeing him comfortably settled. Their ever reluctantly, entirely to remove him. His re- mutual anxiety increasing to impatience, and his moval from school, however, was not in conse- father reading on the cover of a magazine an adquence of his father's having abandoned the pros-vertisement for a situation which appeared to be pect of his one day entering on the work of the ministry, but an act dictated by prudence, which afforded him an opportunity patiently to wait, and calmly to watch the leadings of Providence, and the occurrence of any circumstances which might tend to fix the future destiny of his son. These prudential arrangements, however, were a source of keenest anguish to the mind of Spencer. He bowed at first with reluctance to the yoke of manual labor when but partially imposed-rapidly performed the appointed task, and leaped with joy from toils so repugnant to the elevated and ardent desires of his soul, to solitude and to books; and when compelled entirely to leave his school and pursue from day to day the twisting of worsted, which he calls the worst part of his father's business, his grief was poignant and his regret severe. But religion in early life, assumed in him her mildest and most amiable forms. Its characters were those of uncomplaining acquiescence in the will of God, and cheerful resignation to his earthly lot. If, indeed, with patient submission to the arrangements of Providence he occasionally mingled a warm expression of desire, and suffered his imagination to dwell upon the bright visions of better days, and the animating promise of pursuits more congenial to the tone and inclination of his mind, which hope would give, till, for a moment, it seemed reluctant to return;-it was natural ;-nor is it incompatible with the most perfect resignation to the divine will thus to dwell on scenes of promised pleasure with delight. Such a combination of light and shade is beautiful in nature; and not unfrequently in the history of a Christian's feelings does the sunshine of resignation break in upon the tears of sorrow, and produce a commixture of indefinable feelings, which, like the bow of heaven, are a pledge not unredeemed, of fairer scenery and happier days. The writer, in thus recording the mingled feelings of his friend, has participated too deeply in circumstances and emotions similar to his, not to do it with the warmth of sympathy. He knows how hard it is to give a cheerful and undivided attention to one pursuit, though less repugnant than mechanical employ, when the heart is intently fixed upon Some weeks after this fruitless journey, Mr. Spencer was recommended by a friend to place his son with Messrs. Windwood and Thodey, respectable glovers in the Poultry, who also introduced him to Mr. Thodey's notice. The first interview between the parties was satisfactory; every arrangement was made preparatory to his being bound apprentice, and Thomas soon after entered, in a new capacity, this worthy gentleman's house. The services connected with his new situation, the better part of which was far from grateful to the wishes of his heart, still panting for the ministry with unconquerable attachment, were some of them such as his spirit, at first, but reluctantly submitted to perform; yet aware that then the providence of God pointed out no other path, he cheerfully acquiesced and exchanged, not without regret, the calm and tranquil enjoyments of an endeared domestic circle, for the bosoin of strangers, the drudgery of a shop, and the bustle of the Poultry. But here, as formerly at school, his amiable manners-his modest behavior, and engaging appearance, soon won the affection of the family, (which was large,) whilst his fervent piety and superior talents, excited emotions of a higher order. An extract of a letter, obligingly addressed to me from Mr. Thodey himself, will best record his manner of life, whilst under that gentleman's roof. "His appearance, his genuine modesty, diligence, and integrity, created an interest in our hearts, so as it were almost to identify him as one of our own children; he shared our privileges; united with us in family devotion; and I occasionally took the same opportunities of conversing with him on divine things, which I had been accustomed to do with all those under my care. I well recollect one Sabbath evening, being thus engaged with him alone, when from his pertinent replies to some questions I put to him about the concerns of his soul and the importance of an interest in the Saviour, I perceived he possessed an uncommon share of ta |