The Foundling; or, The Child of ProvidenceChurch, J. (John)
General
The Foundling; or, The Child of Providence
Church, J. (John)
Church, J. (John), approximately 1780-approximately 1825; Clergy -- England -- Biography
The painful business was now to be brought to a final issue. I judged,
before-hand, how it would terminate—as these words followed me wherever I
went—“And Paul dwelt two whole years in his own hired house, and received
all that came to him.” The decision was appointed for the 6th of
November; but, in consequence of the death of the much-lamented Princess
Charlotte, it was postponed. A more gloomy month, I think, I never knew,
especially the 18th when the solemn church bells minutely tolled for that
amiable character’s funeral.
On Sunday morning, the 23rd, I preached my farewell sermon, on _Micah_,
vii.—“Rejoice not against me, Oh, mine enemy; though I fall, I shall
rise; though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light unto me.” I
bade an affectionate farewell to my friends, nor did I prove a false
prophet, as thousands have witnessed. Samson’s locks have grown again,
and John the Baptist has risen from the dead.
The next day, in God’s strength, I went to Westminster-hall, and received
my sentence. I had provided many things to address the court with, and
could have put in fifteen affidavits, but I was advised by counsel not to
speak a word, but quietly submit to the sentence, which I did; and, as
soon as it was passed, my heart was at liberty, which it had not
experienced for one year and three months before.—Newspapers and
scribblers have asserted, it was pronounced to the great joy of the
court, and gave great satisfaction;—but, if a rude rabble can be called a
court, I am mistaken. And, alas! what is noisy breath! the applause of
such mortals! when only about three weeks after, the same rabble had the
daring impudence to hiss the very judge, on the same spot, in the matter
of Hone! As in days of old, when the public cried “Hosanna!” one day,
and in four days more, “Crucify him, crucify him!” So much for public
applause or resentment.
In some cases we may truly say—
Careless, myself, a dying man,
Of dying man’s esteem;
Happy, O God, if thou approve,
Though all the world condemn.
I arrived safe at Achor Vale, and glad enough I was to rest from the long
strife. I was delivered from the noise of the archers, the sounding of
the mountains, and the horns of rams blown by goats, the braying of
asses, and the grumbling of bears.
A variety of select portions of scripture, which had been applied to me
some time before, came seasonably into my mind, and I found the Lord
faithful to his word.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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