letter which he wrote to him to convey the information of his design;what he might have intended eventually, cannot now be conjectured, as he died before the whole was completed.

I was at Catterick when Mr. L. received a letter from his diocesan, Dr. Markham, then bishop of Chester, and afterwards archbishop of York, in answer to one written to inform him of his intention to give up his preferment, the temper of which did the bishop great credit.*

I must not omit to mention here, the liberality and friendship of the late earl of Huntingdon, upon this occasion. It is, I believe, well known, that, revolted probably by the superstition and enthusiasm, which mixed with the genuine piety of his otherwise excellent and exemplary mother, he had run into the opposite extreme, and had become a decided unbeliever. It is probable, that he considered the foreign appendages unhappily interwoven in the Established Creed, as a part of the religion of the Gospel. "What became of the universe," he was wont exultingly to enquire of Mr. Lindsey, "when its great Creator hung lifeless upon a tree in Judea?""I am not concerned, my lord, to answer that question, the foundation on which it rests, not forming any part of my creed."-" But the belief of it, forms a part of the creed of that church, in which you weekly officiate as a minister," was the heartpiercing reply. To the honour however, of lord Huntingdon, when he heard of Mr. Lindsey's

* See Mr. Belsham's Memoir, Appendix, No. IV. p. 501.

M

determination to leave the Church, he wrote him a very handsome letter, saying, that how indifferent soever he might be respecting subjects of mere theology, he greatly honoured the integrity which could lead to such a sacrifice; and he offered Mr. L. to appoint him his librarian, with a handsome salary, and an apartment entirely to himself; where his time for literary pursuits, should be completely at his own disposal. This offer might perhaps have been accepted, had not Mr. L. most earnestly wished to continue his ministerial labours, as already mentioned, and to open a chapel in London, or in Bristol, on such a basis, as should admit of the communion of Christians of whatever denomination, and exhibit a specimen of a Reformed Church of England, on the plan of the late eminent Dr. Clarke. This, as it is well known, he afterwards happily accomplished.

CHAPTER 20.

Mr. Lindsey's Farewell Sermon....The heart-felt grief of the crowded audience....Extract of a letter from Mrs. Lindsey. ....The Author accompanies them to Wakefield....Their kind reception from Mr. Mason....Extract of a letter from Mrs. Lindsey.... Abuse of Mr. Lindsey in the York Chronicle....Ably defended by Mr. Cappe... The Author's first introduction to him.

THE time now approached, when every thing in this world was to be relinquished, and the pilgrims were to set out on their dreary journey, not knowing where they should finally pitch their

tent. Their plate, linen, books and furniture, as I have mentioned, were already prepared to be sold; and I remember Mrs. Lindsey's saying how fortunate it was, that they had neither of them ever formed any very strong, local attachment; that these things had only been valued by them, so far as they were useful and convenient, and not as being peculiarly their own: and that it was more fortunate still, that they had hitherto lived so abstemiously, and on principles of such strict economy, as to have few habits to change, or personal indulgencies to relinquish.

On Sunday, the 28th of Nov. 1773, Mr. Lindsey preached his Farewell Sermon from the 20th chapter of Acts, and the 32nd verse. "And now brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified." I was present at that Sermon, a partaker and witness of a scene, at once the most impressive and the most sorrowful. The church was uncommonly crowded; many who seldom or never attended his ministry, when they apprehended no danger of losing it, now severely reproached themselves, for their past neglect. His afflicted parishioners drew the parallel between their honoured pastor and the venerable apostle, bearing their testimony, that not "for the space of three," but of ten years, " he had ceased not to warn every one night and day," of their Christian obligations. He was frequently interrupted by the sighs and lamentations of his auditors, who like the Ephesians of

old, "sorrowed most of all, for the words that he spake, that they should see his face no more."

The following day, Monday the 29th, Mr. Lindsey resigned his living. I remained there till the Friday, and then returned to Bedale; how deeply and how sorrowfully impressed, it is not easy to imagine, and quite impossible to describe. I will here transcribe part of a letter which I received from Mrs. Lindsey, on the Monday after I left them, although I have inserted it previously in the Memoir already mentioned.

5.

It was written on the Sunday evening, Dec. "This day is over, and my husband's presence made me as happy as I can be among this sorrowing people. Surely these impressions which arise from affection and gratitude, cannot all die, and wholly miss of their first and best destination, the Author of all good. O that they may know and love him through his poor creatures, and have his favour for ever! John's grief (their manservant) was native, but strong as his ties were: eight years indulgence, and the habits consequent to be destroyed, or nearly so, by removing to new scenes; and on such an occasion, in which no little resentments, that so commonly cause removals, and reconcile the mind to other places, stepped in to abate the sorrow! I am persuaded he will often be your visitor to enquire about us. Poor M. T. how she saddened me! She is perfectly stupified with grief. I have said and done all I can to reconcile her. We had no letter to-day, but from Mr. Mason; I imagine all our more

distant friends suppose we are gone. Two days more will accomplish this painful removal, and send us into the wide world again; but if the great Governor do but go with us, we shall havé nothing to fear.”

On that evening, Dec. 8, they came to Bedale, where they slept; and the next morning, I accompanied them as far as Wakefield, in their journey southward. We spent two days there, in the house of the late excellent Mr. Turner, already mentioned; and on the Saturday morning, they proceeded on their journey. I was able to support my spirits, till I saw my beloved friends step into the carriage, and drive away from the door; but when they were quite gone, my fortitude entirely forsook me. Could I have accompanied them, and have been a sharer in all their difficulties and privations, the trial had seemed easy; but to part from them, in such circumstances, uncertain of what might await them to do or to suffer, was quite overwhelming! Nothing could be more kind or judicious, than the behaviour of Mr. and Mrs. Turner:-for some time they said nothing; but afterwards, they endeavoured to suggest every consideration that could sooth or comfort me.

I went from Wakefield to pass a short time at the house of my uncle, my mother's brother, already frequently mentioned, seven miles distant, and was received there by my aunt and her young people, in the kindest manner. It was fortunate for me, as I afterwards found, that he himself was not at home, for when he returned,