8. He was a man eminent for his sympathy with the oppressed. It was not because the breath of calumny had swept over the surface of a character, that he was tempted to abandon it. No he knew that good actions are often liable to misconstruction, and that some of the best of men have been cruelly aspersed. While he was bold and determined against sin, never did a more sympathizing judge sit upon the merits of any character that happened to have passed under a cloud. If he was convinced that the individual accused was really upright, he would do his utmost to re-establish him in the public confidence; or if he could not exculpate him from all blame, yet if he saw him humble and repentant, he would take him by the hand, and endeavour to prevent him from being swallowed up of over-much grief. He felt the force of that apostolic injunction-" If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted."

9. He was a man of great generosity of character. He did not urge others to be liberal, while he was himself niggardly. He gave at one time, we are informed, £300 to the London Missionary Society, besides innumerable donations of a smaller amount to that and other institutions. Indeed, he was always ready to distribute, and willing to communicate. One noble act of his generosity, which has come to our knowledge, deserves particularly to be recorded. He had a small incumbrance on part of a freehold estate, at the east end of London. That estate was previously mortgaged for a large sum. The mortgagee sought to foreclose the mortgage, and gain the estate. The parties were poor, though respectable, and, resident in Wales, could not make a title to the estate. To secure his own incumbrance, Mr. Wilks came forward, and rescued the estate from the mortgagee, and then prosecuted the suit of foreclosure in Chancery, till he acquired the absolute right of the whole estate. Because legally and honourably the owner, he let it on building leases, and greatly improved it, till it became worth from £8,000 to £10,000. By sale of a small part to the Trustees of the Commercial Road, and by the rents, he at last reimbursed himself the principal money he had advanced, with interest; and then, though the estate was his own, he sought out the heirs of the original parties, called them to London, showed them the accounts of all his receipts, and

divided it into three parts, and settled it on them, for themselves and their families, and made two of his Tabernacle friends their trustees; thus presenting to strangers, with unexampled liberality, an estate worth then at least £200 per annum, and which will produce, at the expiration of the leases, £1,000 a year! His real motive in this affair was an almost romantic sense of honour, and a desire to show the real effect of religion, in producing disinterestedness in the human heart.

10. He was a man of prayer and deep and chastened devotion. It was impossible to listen to his more private prayers without feeling that he was a man of God. There was an unction upon his spirit, that kindled a flame in other bosoms. It was most edifying to join with him in this holy exercise, especially of late years, since age and experience had mellowed his spirit. He was accustomed to press the duty of prayer on young ministers, and those who knew him best were fully aware that he daily walked with God.

It may be said, then, had he no faults? Was he altogether perfect? No, by no means. His failings were as obvious as his excellencies. He was, perhaps, too impetuous; sometimes too inconsiderate of the feelings of others; and was apt, occasionally, to indulge unduly a certain vein of wit and sarcasm which belonged to him. But is it not human to err? and may we not be permitted to throw the mantle of charity over a character adorned by so much Christian excellence? Never was any man more sensible of his imperfections than the deceased. He was the first to feel and to confess his errors; and there are not wanting instances in his history in which he has acknowledged his fault at the very moment it was committed.

How delightful to contemplate the death-bed of such a man! To see him full of days-full of faith-full of honours, yet, as a humble penitent, throwing all at the feet of Jesus, and crying, as it were, with his last breath-" God me merciful to me a sinner!" How should the impenitent, the self-righteous, the unconcerned, tremble while they mark the calm and holy surrender of such a spirit! How should the aged dying Christian rejoice, to mark an additional proof of the divine power and faithfulness of his gracious Redeemer! How should ministers be stimulated to renewed diligence and fidelity in the work of God, when they see how he sustains and how he crowns his faithful servants! Oh, the unspeakable honour of being made

wise to win souls! and oh, the transporting bliss of being enabled to taste the sweetness of that Redeemer's love whom they have made known to others as the consolation of Israel! Let the churches of Christ unite in imploring that he would heal the breaches he is making, and that as the fathers of many of our Christian institutions are dropping one after another into the grave, a double portion of the Spirit may rest on those who are called to enter into their labours. Blessed be God, the Redeemer liveth, and remains the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. When Elijah ascends to heaven, his mantle shall fall on some surviving prophet, and thus shall the bright succession of apostolic men be perpetuated till time shall be no more.

The following anecdotes respecting Mr. Wilks will not be unacceptable to those who knew him.

"A poor minister, from a distant part, and not one of his own denomination, came to London in great distress; he laboured among a poor people, who, owing to the failure of the staple manufacture of the country, were unable to support their pastor. In consequence of this failure, the poor man was £30 in debt to his baker, for bread for his numerous family; he called on Mr. Wilks and told him the facts, stating, that he intended to solicit aid from his own denomination. In his laconic way he said, 'It will not do; your scheme will ruin you. If your people know that you are in debt, they will look down upon you as long as you live. You must go to-morrow (the Sabbath) to G―, and preach twice, and come to me on Monday afternoon.' As soon as this minister had left the house, he put down his own name for a certain sum, and then went forth among his friends and collected £35, without informing them of the name of the person for whom they gave their donations. On the Monday afternoon the minister returned, when he put the above sum into his hand, saying, 'Return this night by the coach, and when you arrive at home, retire with your wife, and tell her what God hath done for you and your's; go down upon your knees, and bless him for this deliverance, and be sure you do not let any one know of your embarrassment, or of the design of your journey to London.'"

Mr. W. knew well how to administer seasonable reproof, when it was necessary.

Once travelling with a young nobleman, and a female of improper character; the nobleman degraded himself by engaging in conversation with the coachman and this female, in a highly offensive way. When an opportunity occurred, he looked seriously in the face of his fellow-traveller, and said, 'My lord, maintain your rank.' The nobleman felt the reproof, turned away from the coachman and the woman, and directed his conversation to him, in the most pleasant and gentlemanly manner, through the remainder of the journey. When they parted, he asked the name of his reprover, thanking him for his faithfulness, said he hoped long to remember his reproof, and that he should ever recollect his name with respect."

462

MEMOIR

OF THE LATE

REV. JOEL ABRAHAM KNIGHT,

OF LONDON.

THOUGH a man of extreme modesty, and of retiring habits, the subject of this memoir was a minister of indefatigable zeal in the cause of Christ, and took an interest, beyond that of many, in the formation and early proceedings of the London Missionary Society. His surviving daughter expressed herself in reference to her revered parent in the following terms:

"The formation of the London Missionary Society is an event not within the compass of my recollection; but I have frequently heard my late dear mother refer to it, and to the intense interest my father took in all that pertained to the institution. His days and nights were given to assist the Rev. Messrs. Eyre and Love; and there is reason to believe, that his close attention to this department of labour, might, and did, prevent his more public attendance at the early meetings of the Board. His heart was in the good and great work to the last, though a protracted and painful affliction deprived him of the ability of actively serving the cause."

Mr. Knight was the intimate friend of the Rev. Matthew Wilks, and the following autobiography, communicated to that venerable servant of Christ, and published in the Evangelical Magazine for 1808, will be read with deep interest by the religious public. The document is described in the following

terms:

"Brief memorials of covenant mercies, bestowed by the God of all grace,' on J. A. Knight, his unworthy servant in the ministry of the gospel. Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God hath led thee.' Deut. viii. 2. And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve me unto his heavenly kingdom, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.' 2 Tim. iv. 18.

TO THE REV. M. W.

"MY DEAR BROTHER,-In the course of your long experience, as a minister of the gospel, you have no doubt made some profitable reflections on the pious resolution of the patriarch Jacob, when he said to his family, 'Let us arise and go to Bethel, and I will make there an altar unto God, who answered me in the day of my distress, and was with me in the way that I went.' But there is one thing in this pleasing part of sacred history, which shows that even the best of men are apt to forget the most evident displays of the Divine goodness; for even Jacob was reminded by the Lord of his own vow, before he went to Bethel and built an altar.

* Gen. xxxv. 4.

"Your request that I would give you a brief account of the Lord's dealings with me, led my thoughts to the above passage, which at once sets my duty and my insensibility before my eyes. Alas! how often I lost sight of the God of my mercies, and the mercies of my gracious God! Oh that, whilst I muse on the years that are past, the fire of divine love may be kindled in my heart, and sweetly constrain me, with the sacred Psalmist of Israel, to cry, What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits towards me?'

"I was born at Hull, in Yorkshire, on the 23d of April, 1754; and when about nine years of age, was brought to London, at the particular desire of a near relation, who, having no children of his own, had resolved to adopt me as his son. I was left an orphan when about fifteen; and can never sufficiently admire the goodness of the Divine Providence, in providing me such an asylum as I found in my kind friend and his ever-to-be revered partner. Soon after I came to London, it pleased God to give a very favourable turn to the temporal affairs of my friend, who entered into an extensive line of business; and as he had marked me out in his own mind as his successor in trade, I was, though much against my own inclination, apprenticed to him.

"When about seventeen, I took great delight in reading. My heart was captivated by plays, poetry, history, and novels; and almost every shilling which the kindness of my friends imparted, was spent in procuring these, or in attending the theatres. When the period of the termination of my apprenticeship drew near, I looked forward to it with delight, as to a time of emancipation from bondage; and, indeed, through infinite mercy, it proved such, but not in the way that I expected or desired; for then it was that the Friend of sinners, who came from heaven to proclaim liberty to the captive, broke the iron yoke of bondage to sin and Satan from my neck, and gave me, in his matchless love, to prove that his ways are indeed the ways of pleasantness, and that all his paths are peace.'

"It was, to the best of my recollection, in the month of July, 1775, when Jesus sent from on high, and raised my soul from the pit of corruption; and the chicu stances which led to that blessed event are, to myself at least, too remarkable to be passed over. I had formed an intimate friendship with the son of our next-door neighbour, a youth of my own age and views; and such was our mutual attachment, that we were seldom apart after business was closed; and on the Sabbath afternoons we were almost invariably together. We had, as usual, made an appointment to spend the next Sabbath afternoon together; but our design was disappointed by the great Disposer of all things, for an end which I little expected. When I saw my young friend on the following evening, he told me, that in taking his usual walk in the fields, he met one of our former acquaintances, who had been hearing the Rev. Rowland Hill, in White Conduit Fields (where this person had some time before been called, under the preaching of that valuable servant of Jesus); And would you think,' said he, Frank took me to task, and counted me a sabbath-breaker for only taking an innocent walk after church, (though it should have been observed, that this said innocent walk generally led us to the alehouse!)' I well remember we both joined in laughing heartily at his fanatical folly: and, to my shame I confess, that I went to the, most shocking length of ridicule and blasphemy respecting the things which I knew not. In the midst of this awful act, my conscience was struck with the arrows of conviction, which stuck fast in my soul; and, under feelings which are not to be described, I took an abrupt leave of the young man, and went home, resolved to search the word of God for myself, deeply conscious how shamefully I had despised and neglected it.

"As I read the holy Scriptures, light broke in upon my dark mind; and from a sense of my misery and guilt as a sinner, I began to feel my need of prayer. At the house of one of Mr. Romaine's people in the city, whom I sometimes visited, as the old friend of my dear mother, I recollected having seen a little manual of Prayers for every Morning and Evening in the Week, by the late Mr. W. Mason; and I believe the first sixpence which I ever spent in sound divinity, was in the purchase of that little book ; for which I have to this day reason to be thankful.

"Situated as I then was, it was impossible that such a change as I had felt, could pass on me unnoticed: I was no longer the gay, thoughtless creature which 1 had been: of