Page images
PDF
EPUB

sed on the clergy of that kingdom, he was deprived of his living. He now became acquainted with the famous Gilbert Kennedy, of, a Presbyterian minister, who had also been persecuted for his religious principles, and soon after married his daughter. Finding it difficult to continue at home with any satisfactory degree of usefulness, and his family increasing, after a few years he determined to emigrate to America, where he was encouraged to hope for a greater liberty of conscience, as well as the prospect of being employed in extending the Redeemer's kingdom in that new world. He arrived at Philadelphia in the summer of 1718, with his wife, four sons, and one daughter. His sons were, Gilbert, who was afterwards the pastor of the second Presbyterian church in Philadelphia; William, the subject of these memoirs; John, who became pastor of the church at Freehold, and died at the age of twenty-five years; and Charles, afterwards minister of the Presbyterian church at Whiteclay creek, whence he removed to Buckingham, in Maryland.

William Tennent, the father, on his first coming to America, settled at East Chester, in the then province of New York, and afterwards removed to Bedford. In a short time he was called to Bucks county, in Pennsylvania, and preached at Bensalem and Smithfield; but soon after settled permanently at Neshaminy, in the same county. Being skilled in the Latin language, so as to speak and write it almost as well as his mother tongue, a good proficient also in the other learned languages, and well read in

divinity, he determined to set up a school for the instruction of youth, particularly of those designed for the gospel ministry, as the best service he could render to God and his new adopted country; education being then at a very low ebb. There appeared, in his apprehension, a very large field for the propagation of the gospel, could a sufficient number of faithful labourers be found for so great a harvest. A learned ministry, he well knew, was necessary to the sure foundation of the church of Christ, especially in a new country, so peculiarly exposed to every invader, and where the enemy might so successfully sow tares among the wheat. In pursuance of this design, he established an academy, and built a house, since known by the name of the log-college.

Soon after his arrival in Bucks county, on full consideration, he left the church of England, and, to enlarge his sphere of usefulness, determined to join the Presbyterian church. Accordingly, he applied to the synod of Philadelphia for admission into their communion; and, on due examination, and complying with their stated rules, he was very cordially received. At the first meeting of the synod afterwards, he addressed that venerable body, in an elegant Latin oration, which added greatly to his celebrity, and increased the hopes of his friends as to the success of the institution he had founded. To erect and support such an important seminary of learning, out of his own private purse, at that early period, in a new country just rising from a savage wilderness, and to devote himself to so

severe a service, in addition to his pastoral charge, was a boon to his generation, that at this day cannot be easily nor sufficiently appreciated.

His expectations, in a few years, were more than realized. In this institution the principal men of the day, and many of the Presbyterian clergy, were educated, and added greatly to the increase and usefulness of their churches. The late Rev. Messrs. Rowland, Campbell, Lawrence, Beatty, Robinson, and Samuel Blair, with many others, were among the number of his pupils, and thought themselves honoured by being considered as sons of this humble seminary. Here also his own four sons received their education, and were prepared for their important services. Had these been the only fruits of that infant academy, America would have reason to rejoice, and to render thanks to that God, who directed this gentleman to visit her shores.

His second son, WILLIAM, who is the subject of these sketches, was born on the 3d day of June, 1705, in the county of Antrim, in Ireland, and was just turned of thirteen years when he arrived in America. He applied himself, with much zeal and industry, to his studies, and made great proficiency in the languages, particularly in the Latin. Being early impressed with a deep sense of divine things, he soon determined to follow the example of his father and elder brother, by devoting himself to the service of God in the ministry of the gospel. His brother Gilbert being called to the pastor al charge of the church at New Brunswick, in New Jersey, and

making a very considerable figure as a useful and popular preacher; William determined, as he had completed his course in the languages, to study divinity un der his brother. Accordingly he left his father's house, with his consent and by his advice, and went to New Brunswick. At his departure from home, which was considered as his setting out in life, his father addressed him with great affection, commending him to the favour and protection of that God, from whom he himself had received so much mercy, and who had directed him in all his migrations. He gave him a small sum of money, as the amount of all he could do for him, telling him that if he behaved well and did his duty, this was an ample provision for him; and if he should act otherwise, and prove ungrateful to a kind and gracious God, it was too much and more than he deserved. Thus, with a pittance, and the blessing of a pious and affectionate parent, of more consequence than thousands of pounds, the young student set out in the world.

After a regular course of study in theology, Mr. Tennent was preparing for his examination by the presbytery, as a candidate for the gospel ministry. His intense application affected his health, and brought on a pain in his breast and a slight hectic. He soon became emaciated, and at length was like a living skeleton.

ed.

His life was now threatenHe was attended by a physician, a young gentleman who was attached to him by the strictest and warmest friendship. He grew worse and worse, till little hope of life was left. In this

situation his spirits failed him, and he began to entertain doubts of his final happiness. He was conversing, one morning, with his brother, in Latin, on the state of his soul, when he fainted and died away. After the usual time, he was laid out on a board, according to the common practice of the country, and the neighbourhood were invited to attend his funeral on the next day. In the evening, his physician and friend returned from a ride into the country, and was afflicted beyond measure at the news of his death. He could not be persuaded that it was certain; and on being told that one of the persons who had assisted in laying out the body thought he had observed a little tremor of the flesh under the arm, although the body was cold and stiff, he endeavoured to ascertain the fact. He first put his own hand into warm water to make it as sensible as possible, and then felt under the arm, and at the heart, and affirmed that he felt an unusual warmth, though no one else could. He had the body restored to a warm bed, and insisted that the people, who had been invited to the funeral, should be requested not to attend. To this the brother objected as absurd, the eyes being sunk, the lips discoloured, and the whole body cold and stiff. However, the doctor finally prevailed; and al! probable means were used, to discover symptoms of returning life. But the third day arrived, and no hopes were entertained of success but by the doctor, who never left him night nor day. The people were again invited, and assembled to attend the The doctor still object

ed, and at last confined his request for delay to one hour, then to half an hour, and finally to a quarter of an hour. He had discovered that the tongue was much swoln, and threatened to crack. He was endeavouring to soften it, by some emollient oint. ment put upon it with a feather, when the brother came in, about the expiration of the last period, and mistaking what the doctor was doing, for an attempt to feed him, manifested some resentment, and in a spirited tone, said, "It is shameful to be feeding a lifeless corpse;" and insisted, with earnestness, that the funeral should immediately proceed. At this critical and important moment, the body, to the great alarm and astonishment of all present, opened its eyes, gave a dreadful groan, and sunk again into apparent death. This put an end to all thoughts of burying him, and every effort was again employed in hopes of bringing about a speedy resuscitation. In about an hour, the eyes again opened, a heavy groan proceeded from the body, and again all appearance of animation vanished. In another hour life seemed to return with more power, and a complete revival took place, to the great joy of the family and friends, and to the no small astonishment and conviction of very many who had been ridiculing the idea of restoring to life a dead body.

Mr. Tennent continued in so weak and low a state for six weeks, that great doubts were entertained of his final recovery. However, after that period, he recovered much faster, but it was about twelve months before he was completely restored. After

3

he was able to walk the room, and to take notice of what passed around him, on a Sunday afternoon, his sister, who had staid from church to attend him, was reading in the Bible, when he took notice of it, and asked her what she had in her hand. She answered that she was reading the Bible. He replied, "What is the Bible? I know not what you mean." This affected the sister so much that she burst into tears, and informed him, that he was once well acquainted with it. On her reporting this to the brother when he returned, Mr. Tennent was found, upon examination, to be totally ignorant of every transaction of his life previous to his sickness. He could not read a single word, neither did he seem to have any idea of

what it meant. As soon as he became capable of attention, he was taught to read and write, as children are usually taught, and afterwards began to learn the Latin language under the tuition of his brother. One day as he was reciting a lesson in Cornelius Nepos, he suddenly started, clapped his hand to his head, as if something had hurt him, and made a pause. His brother asking him what was the matter, he said, that he felt a sudden shock in his head, and it now seemed to him as if he had read that book

before. By degrees his recollection was restored, and he could speak the Latin as fluently as before his sickness. His memory so completely revived, that he gained a perfect knowledge of the past transactions of his life, as if no difficulty had previously occurred. This event, at the time, made a considerable noise, and afforded, not only matter of

serious contemplation to the devout Christian, especially when connected with what follows in this narration, but furnished a subject of deep investigation and learned inquiry to the real philosopher and curious anatomist. (To be continued.)

LIFE OF LUTHER.

From the Religious Monitor.
(Continued from p. 527, vol. I.)

THE Elector, acquainted with the faithlessness of Rome, and

fearing that the imperial edict might afford some pretext to one or other of the Popish princes, to violate the safe conduct, which Luther had received, and deliver him into the power of his implacable enemies, had the prudence to have him conveyed to a secret place of safety. On his return from Worms, at the entrance of the forest of Thurin gia, he was seized by a number of armed horsemen, who were lying in wait for him, and carried to the castle of Wartburg, a strong fortress in the neighbourhood of Eisenach. The secret of Luther's retreat, though confided to several of his friends, was long unknown; and reports of his assassination were spread, as the true explanation of his sudden disappearance. The grief which these reports occasioned to multitudes, whose attachment to the cause of the reformer, had till then, been unnoticed, proved the extent of the evil with which the church threatened, and the inefficacy of bulls and prescriptions to avert

was

it. But their fears were dis

[ocr errors][merged small]

pelled by the publications, which soon issued from the castle of Wartburg.

Luther, who followed the dictates of prudence and authority, rather than his own inclination and conviction of propriety, in remaining under the protec tion of secrecy, was impatient to be at liberty, that he might resume his usual labours. He was, however, indefatigable in writing both letters and treatises, illustrating and confirming his established opinions on many points of religious doctrine, and they were received with increased avidity, as from one, who had almost suffered martyrdom for the truth. He also preached regularly every week to those, who shared his solitude; but his mind was constantly occupied with anxiety about the interests of the reformation, which he was excluded from publicly directing and superintending. His health too, was affected, by his confinement, his anxious cares, and the delicacy of his diet, so different from his accustomed fare in his monastic life. But the state of his flock at Wittemberg, and the prospect of the spiritual tyranny of Rome being anew riveted about the necks of those, whose emancipation had been nearly effected, were the sources of his deepest affliction. Yet his courage and zeal seemed to be in flamed by the very circumstances, which might have damped them: "I had rather," said he, "expire on burning coals for the glory of God, and the confirmation of my own faith, and that of others, than thus pine away, in a state of solitude, half alive, nay, only not dead." But, adds he, "though I perish, the gospel re.

mains.

If the Pope persecute all, who think as I do, Germany will revolt, and the sooner he begins it, the sooner will he and his minions be destroyed. God has so raised the spirit of thousands, and that among the common people, that it seems to be impossible to be repressed; nay, its force will be increased ten fold by opposition." He was, at the same time, so averse to any thing like violence on either side, that he considered the conduct of the students at Erfurd, who pillaged and burned some houses belonging to the canons of that city, because they had expelled one of the brethren on the charge of Lutheranism, as a token of the Divine displeasure, and meriting the most unqualified censure.*

The first work of his solitary hours, was a treatise on auricu. lar confession, in which he insisted on the propriety of abolishing this point of discipline, because entirely of human invention, productive of the most scandalous effects, and calculated to encourage rather than to discountenance sin, by the facility of obtaining absolution. This was followed by an answer to Latomus, who had undertaken the defence of the censure, which the faculty of Louvain had passed on his writings. This work contained a vindication of the severity with which he spoke of his adversaries, as abundantly justified by the dangerous opinions, which they supported, and the profligate lives, which they led, and an elaborate defence of several of the propositions, which he had formerly advanced re

[ocr errors][merged small]
« PreviousContinue »