as his
duty.[1057] Only it was a duty which, as time went on, was continually
less regarded alike in the upper and lower grades of society. Bishop
Newton, speaking in 1768 of Mr. Grenville, evidently regarded his
'regularly attending the service of the church every Sunday morning,
even while he was in the highest offices,' as something altogether
exceptional in a Minister of State.[1058] His namesake, John Newton, the
well-known writer of 'Cardiphonia' and the 'Olney Hymns,' says that when
he was Rector of St. Mary, Woolnoth, in London, few of his wealthy
parishioners came to church.[1059] Religious reformers, towards the end
of the century, awoke with alarm to the perception of serious evil,
betokened by the general thinness of congregations. The migration of
population from the centre of London to its suburbs had already set in;
but the following assertion was sufficiently startling nevertheless.
'The amazing and afflictive desertion of all our churches is a fact
beyond doubt or dispute. In the heart of the city of London, in its
noblest edifices, on the Lord's day, repeated instances have been known
that a single individual hath not attended the divine service.'[1060]
Another writer observes, in similar language, that 'the greater part of
our churches, particularly in the metropolis, present a most unedifying
and afflicting spectacle to the eyes of the sincere, unenthusiastic
Christian.' 'Attendance was almost everywhere,' he adds, 'most
shamefully small.'[1061] Some of the remoter parts of England seemed to
be absolutely in danger of relapsing into literal heathenism. Hannah
More said, in a letter to John Newton (1796), that in one parish in her
neighbourhood, 'of nearly two hundred children, many of them grown up,
hardly any had ever seen the inside of a church since they were
christened. I cannot tell you the avidity with which the Scriptures were
received by many of these poor creatures.'[1062] But things had indeed
come to a pass in the country district where this indefatigable lady
pursued her Christian labour. 'We have in this neighbourhood thirteen
adjoining parishes without so much as even a resident curate.'[1063] Of
such villages she might well add, that they 'are in Pagan darkness, and
upon many of them scarcely a ray of Christianity has shone. I speak from
the most minute and diligent examination.'[1064] No doubt the locality
of which she spoke was suffering under very exceptional neglect; but
somewhat si