The Life And Ministry Of John Phillips

Gospel Standard 1872:

Death. On Feb. 23rd, aged 47, Mr. John Phillips, minister of the gospel, Rotherfield.

He was taken ill in Brighton, early in December, 1871. Some of his sentences we could not catch sufficiently to connect them. He was frequently in prayer. Once most distinctly he was heard to say, “Show me thy hands and thy feet. Lay me low and keep me there till I say, Not my will, but thine be done.” At another time, “Do bless me and my dear partner and children. Thou knowest how very near they lie to the heart of thy poor dust. Thou canst bless them, and provide for them, and none, O Lord, but thou canst give them grace. O! Do be pleased to give them grace. And do thou bless thy two dear handmaids before thee, and reward them for their kindness to me. Give us each another true token. Give us to feel we are bound up together in the bundle of life, and traveling together to the same home. And bless all thy dear children everywhere.” At one time, fixing his eyes upon those that were with him, he said, “What a wonderful thing it will be for all three of us to be found in heaven;” and added, “I never doubt it for either of you; but I cannot always believe it for myself. O the fears I have had of being deceived! But ‘the righteous shall hold on his way.’ I sometimes ask myself what it is to be righteous; and I say, ‘Why, it is to be stripped and clothed;’ and then it is often suggested that all I know about that is in theory. It is said ‘they that endure to the end shall be saved.’ I believe I shall; yes, I believe I shall endure to the end, whether this affliction is unto death or not. I never remember in any illness before being so favoured. I have generally been so dark. Not that I have now any great joy; but such a quiet resting and sweet peace. My wife and children all seem taken from me. I know the Lord can provide for them, and I feel to have no will of my own, whether to live or die. I have no desire to get better.”

It was remarked by one of the friends that it was a great favour to be thus supported and blessed under such distressing pain and trying circumstances. He said, “It is; but my poor praises,—they are so poor. He has been a good God to me for now nearly 48 years in the wilderness. He has fed and clothed me and raised up many kind friends; and what is more than all that, I believe he has put his grace into my heart; and where he gives grace he will give glory. ‘The Lord is good, and a stronghold in the day of trouble.’ You have both proved him so, many, many times.”

He was extremely grateful for any little attention paid him, and frequently expressed fears of tiring his attendants. On being told it was a privilege and an honour to wait on a prince, he replied, “I would not change places with the Prince of Wales. I believe the King of heaven has set up his throne in my heart, and I shall be heartily willing for him to wear the crown. A little while on Sunday I felt (we often say it), but then for a few minutes I really felt it:

“Then loudest of the crowd I’ll sing.’

These lines keep running through my mind:

“‘He’s made my standing more secure

Than ’twas before I fell.’

Why, it is as secure as the everlasting covenant. It was made secure before the foundations of the earth were laid. Is it not wonderful?” “There is a divine reality in real religion. No fables, no trifles, would do for me now.”

Once he said, “If I should be raised up again, and this affliction be sanctified to some poor soul, would it not be a blessing? The first sermon I ever preached was from these words: ‘The righteous shall hold on his way.’ After I got into the pulpit, such darkness seized me and my subject was all taken from me that I was determined not to attempt to speak, and had just put my hand out to unfasten the pulpit door when the clerk was giving out the last verse of the hymn, which was:

“Blind unbelief is sure to err.’

The words dropped into my heart with such power and sweetness that I did indeed prove God to be his own interpreter; for I had a good time in speaking; and going up the chapel yard afterwards I heard one say to another, ‘Bless the Lord, I believe I am one of the righteous characters.’ What an encouragement this was to me!” When told that his ministry had been blessed to many, and that he had not shunned to declare the whole counsel of God, he said, “Ah! Mine has been poor preaching; but the Lord knows it has been my desire to be faithful. O! With what trembling have I gone up the pulpit stairs; and when I have come down, how shame has often covered my face!”

On the following day he said to a dear friend who visited him, his countenance bespeaking the joy of his soul, “No more room for doubts and fears! The dear Lord has appeared for me in such a way that I cannot doubt. O! I know it is all right. This is a sweet affliction, How sweet to leave all with a full assurance that I am safe in Christ. I can leave wife, children, the church, and all dear friends. It was like a little heaven last night; and it is not all gone yet. What the Lord is about to do with me I know not; but tell those who love the dear Lord I have found him whom my soul loveth, and I long to be with him.” He was much in prayer during the night, and suffered from faintness; so that he was not able to converse much. Towards morning he exclaimed, “Precious Jesus! This will do! This will do!” After which he was again in prayer.

After this, the Lord gradually and gently withdrew his sweet and manifestive presence. The following night he was much tried, and was heard to say, “Lord, do appear! One look would do it!”

The next day being Sunday, he expressed grief at being the cause of keeping his attendants from the means of grace; but added, “The dear Lord knows it is necessary, and if his will he can make this room a Bethel to our souls, as he did the other night.” Having asked one to read a portion of the word, he engaged in prayer, and it was evident he felt a sweet pouring out of soul before the Lord. After this, he was asked if he could die upon the truths he had preached. He said, “Yes; I want no other salvation, a full and complete salvation is Christ to such a poor sinner as I feel I am.”

Toward the close of the day the enemy was permitted to thrust sore at him. The agonizing cries and petitions he made use of will not readily be forgotten by those who were with him. Several times the words of the psalmist were wrung from his soul: “‘Is his mercy clean gone for ever? Will he be favourable no more?’ I feel he turns a deaf ear to me.” He then said, “Cry aloud, and shout! Ah! That is it! I have not cried aloud. The children of God cry aloud, and the Lord hears and answers them; but I am not the character.” On being told the Lord would also deliver him in his own time and way, he exclaimed, “No, no! I am fast bound with Satan’s chain. I have deceived you all. I have not that religion that will stand the test. I thought we were bound for the same home, and that I had felt a real spiritual union to you and many others; but it’s all over now. A death-bed will show I am nothing but a deceived character, and therefore we shall have to part.” With this he put out his hand, saying many times, “Pray, pray aloud for me!” He continued in this state till between six and seven o’clock next morning, and, like Job, refused to be comforted; but, completely exhausted with pain and the conflict through which he was passing, he fell asleep, and slept for about two hours. When he awoke he started up to bed, saying, “Where am I?” On being told the Lord had not given him over into the hand of the enemy, he said, bursting into tears, “Still on praying ground and out of a deserved hell; and you don’t spurn me from you. What a long-suffering God, to bear with such a wretch! I expected to have been made an open spectacle before this, and to have sunk lower than the grave.” A friend said, “But the everlasting arms are underneath.” He said, “Yes, bless the dear Lord! These have held me up, though I have had such a combat with the enemy as I never had before; his arm sustained me, though I felt at the time entirely given up and deserted by him. Some one has been praying for me; I feel sure of it; and I believe that prayer was not intended for Simon only. The Lord said, ‘I have prayed for thee.’ He is the same Intercessor now for his tried and tempted people. Yes, bless his precious name, I feel I can never love him half enough. The bitter anguish sin has caused me since yesterday you have been witness to; not open sin; but it is heart sins; and then for the Lord to come over all,—this is what humbles a poor sinner in the dust at his feet.”

A short time after this he asked a friend to read hymn 483, Gadsby’s Selection:

“Yes, I shall soon be landed.”

He said, “How sweet! How precious! Almost as much as my weak body can bear. And

” If such the sweetness of the streams,

What must the fountain be?’

I believe I shall soon be landed where I shall drink in full draughts at the Fountain-Head. This is worth fighting and suffering for: 

“A thousand years to wait for this 

Would be unutterable bliss.’

What must fruition be?” This abode with him for some time; during which he said, “Jesu” is precious to me in all his characters and offices. His name is as ointment poured forth. The poet expresses it exactly (repeating the hymn through):

“‘How sweet the name of Jesus sounds,’ &c.

I want to tell the friends how precious he is to my soul. I never exalted him half enough.”

After this he recovered sufficiently to be got home from Brighton; and his desire to speak once more to his people was granted. He did not go into the pulpit, but spoke a short time from these words: “Unto you, therefore, which believe, he is precious.” After which he administered the ordinance of the Lord’s supper with great solemnity. Many present felt it would be the last time, for he was evidently ripening for glory.

He now gradually got weaker. On several occasions, while suffering excruciating pain, he said, “I deserve hell, and I have only got this. I do hope the Lord will give me patience to suffer all he sees fit to lay upon me.” He was, at times, sorely tried by the enemy. He said, “Satan tries me in every way; I prove he is a mighty foe. Those who speak lightly of him do not know his power. I cannot get further than this: Lord, help me! It was the language of lllY soul on the day Mr. H. spoke from it; and so it is to-day.” Once he said, “I want to ask myself and you a solemn question. This is it:

“‘Pause, my soul, and ask the question:” 

“Art thou ready to meet God?

Am I made a real Christian,

Wash’d in the Redeemer’s blood?”

[About forty-one years ago a quantity of spoiled sheets of my father’s hymns were used in a cheesemonger’s shop in St. Giles’s, London. A stranger went into the shop to purchase some cheese or bacon. It was wrapped up for him in a piece of paper containing part of the above hymn. He read it; and the Holy Spirit so fastened the words upon his conscience that they were the means of convincing him of his state as a sinner, and ultimately of realizing the substance of verse 3.—John Gadsby]

Ah! Do I know anything of the efficacy of Christ’s blood? As in days of old they took every man a lamb without blemish, so now do we want to know that spotless Lamb of God was sacrificed for us? These are not trifling things to talk about.”

On more than one occasion, while suffering great pain of body and the enemy thrusting his fiery darts into his soul, he said, “I wish I had never been born. I do not wonder at Job’s cursing the day he was born; chapter vii. is my daily experience.” He often spoke of Job as having been his brother in affliction: Several times during his illness, when almost overwhelmed, he cried out, “Hold out, Faith and Patience!” At another time he said, “Not forsaken!’ I had almost sunk; but those two words dropped sweetly into my soul and revived me. What a mercy his hand is stretched out still! Do read Is. 62. Several hymns were very sweet to him; among them were 992, 732.

About ten days before the Lord took him to himself, and after a season of darkness and trial, these words were spoken with power to his soul: “Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest, because it is polluted.” Isa. 60 was very sweet to him at that time, especially verse 20. Also Isa. 52:2. He was enabled to speak for some time of the Lord’s gracious dealings. During the day he had asked, “What is heaven?” Now he said, “This is heaven let down into my soul. It will not be long before all will be said of poor Phillips, ‘The days of his mourning are ended.’ Ah! There will be no night there; but I shall for ever bask in the sunshine of his love. I shall fully experience Ps. 107; for he is about to bring me to my desired haven; and when I get there he shall never hear the last of it. I have known a little of both sides of religion. Satan has, at times, tried me above measure, and my bodily afflictions have been great; but 

“‘The joy prepared for suffering saints 

Will make amends for alL'”

After this he fainted from exhaustion. The next day, about noon, the Lord again powerfully broke in upon his soul, and, as well as his feeble strength would permit, he sang Pope’s Ode, several times repeating, “O death, where is thy sting? a grave, where is thy victory?” He said, “The Lord has taken away the sting of death! Bless his precious name! Yes, hell is vanquished!” He then took an affectionate leave of every member of the family separately, after which he said to those that were supporting him, “Now you must help me sing;” and, in a clear voice, to their great surprise, he sang:

“Then loudest of the crowd I’ll sing,

While heaven’s resounding mansions ring

With shouts of sovereign grace.”

Soon after this the Lord again hid his face, and the dear sufferer was left to the buffetings of the enemy for three or four days, which to him seemed almost as many months. But the clouds dispersed, and he said, “I feel my affections going out after the Lord; but no word has been applied to my soul. I am not yet in despair;” and shortly afterwards he said, “I am black, but comely; yes, black as the tents of Kedar; but it is Christ instead of me is seen.”

A day or two before he died he said, “Ps. 23 has been made precious to me;” and he repeated it through. After this he said, “I am in the land of Meshech. Woe is me!

“‘Is this polluted heart

A dwelling fit for thee?

Swarming, alas! in every part,

What evils do I see!'”

The evening before his decease he said to a friend, “I am overwhelmed with the goodness of God. Do you know what it is to be overwhelmed?” About midnight he said, “I am full! I am full! Help me! Help me to praise him!” This he said again an hour or two later; after which he said but little, being apparently unconscious the greater part of the time.

About one o’clock, p.m., he fell asleep in Jesus so quietly that those around could scarcely tell when he ceased to breathe.

His faith and patience, love and zeal,

Have made his memory dear;

Do thou, O Lord, the prayers fulfill,

He offer’d for us here.

J. Newton