LIFE OF JOHN NEWTON (Cont.)

I can sometimes feel pleasure in repeating the acknowledgment of David, “O Lord, I am Thy servant, the son of Thine handmaid; Thou hast loosed my bonds.” The tender mercies of God toward me were manifested in the first moment of my life. I was born, as it were, in His house, and dedicated to Him in my infancy. My mother, as I have heard from many, was a pious, experienced Christian: she was a Dissenter, in communion with the late Dr. Jennings. I was her only child; she was of a weak constitution, and a retired temper. Almost her whole employment was the care of my education. I have some faint remembrance of her care and instructions. At not more than three years of age, she herself taught me English. When I was four years old I could read with propriety in any common book. She stored my memory, which was then very retentive, with many valuable pieces, chapters, and portions of Scripture, catechisms, hymns, and poems.

ENCOURAGEMENT FOR PARENTS

At that time I had little inclination to the noisy sports of children, but was best pleased when in mother’s company, and always as willing to learn as she was to teach. How far the best education may fall short of reaching the heart will strongly appear in the sequel; yet I think, for the encouragement of godly parents to go on in the good way of doing their part faithfully, I may properly propose myself as an example. Though in process of time I sinned away all the advantages of these early impressions, yet they were for a great while a restraint upon me. They returned again and again, and it was very long before I could wholly shake them off. When the Lord at length opened my eyes, I found a great benefit from the recollection of them. My dear mother, besides the pains she took with me, often commended me with many prayers and tears to God.

My mother observed my early progress with peculiar pleasure, and intended from the first to bring me up with a view to the ministry, if the Lord should so incline my heart. In my sixth year I began to learn Latin. Before I had time to know much about it, the intended plan of my education was broken. The Lord’s designs were far beyond the views of an earthly parent. He was pleased to reserve me for an unusual proof of His patience, providence, and grace; therefore overruled the purpose of my friends, by depriving me of my mother when I was under seven years old. I was born July 24, 1725, and she died July 11, 1732.

My father was at sea; he was a commander in the Mediterranean trade at that time. He came home the following year, and soon after married again, and I passed into different hands. I was well treated. The loss of my mother’s instructions was not repaired. I was now permitted to mingle with careless and profane children, and soon began to learn their ways. Soon after my father’s marriage, I was sent to a boarding school in Essex, where the imprudent severity of the master almost broke my spirit and my relish for books. While with him I forgot the first principles and rules of arithmetic, which my mother had taught me years before. I stayed two years; in the last of the two, a new teacher came who observed and suited my temper, I took to Latin with great eagerness. Before I was ten years old, I read Tully and Virgil.

I believe I was pushed forward too fast. Not being grounded, I soon lost all I had learned (I left school in my tenth year). When I long afterward undertook Latin from books, I think I had little, if any, advantage from what I had learned before. EARLY SEA VOYAGES

When I was eleven years old my father took me to sea with him. A man of remarkable good sense, and great knowledge of the world, he took great care of my morals. But he could not supply my mother’s part. Having been educated in Spain, he alawys observed an air of distance and severity in his carriage which overawed and discouraged my spirit. I was always in fear before him, and therefore he had the less influence.

From that time to the year 1742 I made several voyages, with considerable intervals between, chiefly in the country. A few months in my fifteenth year I was placed upon a very advantageous prospect at Alicant, Spain, but my unsettled behavior and impatience of restraint rendered that opportunity abortive.

In this period, my temper and conduct were exceedingly various. I had little concern about religion, and easily received very ill impressions. However I was often disturbed with convictions. I was fond of reading from a child. Among other books, Benet’s “Christian Oratory” came my way and though I understood but little of it, the course of life recommended appeared very desirable. I was inclined to attempt it; I began to pray, to read the Scriptures, and to keep a diary.

I was presently religious in my own eyes. But, alas! this seeming goodness had no solid foundation, but passed away like a morning-cloud, or the early dew. I was soon weary, gradually gave it up, and became worse than before. Instead of prayer, I learned to curse and blaspheme, and was exceedingly wicked when not under my parent’s view.

Before I was twelve years old, I had a dangerous fall from a horse. Being thrown, unhurt, within a few inches of a hedgerow newly cut down, I could not avoid taking notice of a gracious Providence in my deliverance. Had I fallen upon the stakes I would inevitably have been killed. My conscience suggested to me the dreadful consequences if, in such a state, I had been summoned to appear before God.

I subsequently broke off my profane practices and appeared quite altered. But it was not long before I declined again. These struggles between sin and conscience were often repeated, and every relapse sank me into still greater depths of wickedness.

I was once roused by the loss of an intimate companion. We had agreed to go on board a man-of-war (I think it was on a Sunday); but I providentially came too late; the boat was overturned, and my friend and several others were drowned. I was invited to the funeral of my fellow, and was exceedingly affected to think that by a delay of a few minutes, which had much displeased and angered me, my life had been preserved. However, this likewise was soon forgotten.

At another time, the perusal of the “Family Instructor” put me upon a partial and transient reformation. In brief, though I cannot distinctly relate particulars, I think I took up and laid aside a religious profession three or four different times before I was sixteen years of age. All this while my heart was insincere.

I saw the necessity of religion as a means of escaping hell, but I loved sin, and was unwilling to forsake it. Instances of this, I can remember, were frequent. In the middle of all my forms, I was strangely blind and stupid. Sometimes when determined upon things which I knew were sinful and contrary to my duty, I could not go on quietly till I had first displatched my ordinary task of prayer. I grudged every moment of my time, but when this was finished my conscience was in some measure pacified, and I could rush into folly with little remorse.

My last reform was the most remarkable, both for degree and continuance. Of this I may say in the apostle’s words, “After the straitest sect of our religion I lived a Pharisee.” I did everything that might be expected from a person entirely ignorant of God’s righteousness, and desirous to establish his own. I spent the greatest part of every day in reading the Scriptures, meditation, and prayer. I fasted often; I even abstained from all animal food for three months; I would hardly answer a question for fear of speaking an idle word. I seemed to bemoan my former misconduct very earnestly, sometimes with tears.

I became an ascetic, and endeavored, so far as my situation would permit, to renounce society, that I might avoid temptation. I continued in this serious mood (I cannot give it a higher title) for more than two years without any considerable breaking off. It was poor religion. It left me, in many respects, under the power of sin. It tended to make me gloomy, stupid, unsociable, and useless.

Such was the frame of my mind when I became acquainted with Lord Shaftesbury’s Characteristics. The title allured me, and the style and manner gave me great pleasure, especially the second piece which his lordship, with great propriety, entitled “A Rhapsody.” Nothing could be more suited to my romantic mind than this pompous declamation. Of the design and tendency I was not aware; I thought the author a most religious person, and that I had only to follow him and be happy.

Thus, with fine words and fair speeches, my simple heart was beguiled. This book was always in my hand; I read it till I could very nearly repeat the “Rhapsody” verbatim from beginning to end. No immediate effect followed; but it operated like a slow poison, and prepared the way for all that came after.

In December, 1742, I returned from a voyage, and my father, not thinking of me for the sea again, was thinking how to settle me in the world. I had little life or spirit for business; I knew but little of men and things. I was fond of a visionary, contemplative life, a mixture of religion, philosophy, and indolence; and was quite averse to the thought of industrious application to business.

At length a merchant in Liverpool, an intimate friend of my father’s (to whom, as the instrument of God’s goodness, I have since been chiefly indebted for all my earthly comforts), proposed to send me for some years to Jamaica, and to charge himself with the care of my future. I consented to this, and was on the point of setting out the following week. In the meantime my father sent me on some business a few miles beyond Maidstone, in Kent. This little journey, which was to have been only for three or four days, occasioned a sudden and remarkable turn, which roused me from my indolence. “The way of man is not in himself; it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.”

(To Be Continued)

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