BROWN

BROWN, Simon, a dissenting minister, whose uncommon talents and singular misfortunes entitle him justly to a place in this work, was born at Shepton Mallet in Somersetshire, 1680. Grounded and excelling in grammatical learning, he early became qualified for the ministry, and actually began to preach before he was twenty. He was first called to be a pastor at Portsmouth, and afterwards removed to the Old Jewry, where he was admired and esteemed for a number of years. But the death of his wife and only son, which happened in 1723, affected him so as to deprive him of his reason; and he became from that time lost to himself, to his family, and to the world: his congregation

Brown. at the Old Jewry, in expectation of his recovery, de-
layed for some time to fill his post; yet at length all
hopes were over, and Mr Samuel Chandler was appoint-
ed to succeed him in 1725. This double misfortune
affected him at first in a manner little different from
distruction, but afterwards sunk him into a settled mel-
ancholy. He quitted the duties of his function, and
would not be persuaded to join in any act of worship,
public or private. Being urged by his friends for a
reason of this extraordinary change, at which they ex-
pressed the utmost grief and astonishment, he told them,
after much importunity, that "he had fallen under the
sensible displeasure of God, who had caused his rational
soul gradually to perish, and left him only an animal
life in common with brutes: that, though he retained
the human shape, and the faculty of speaking in a
manner that appeared to others rational, he had all the
while no more notion of what he said than a parrot;
that it was therefore profane in him to pray, and in-
congruous to be present at the prayers of others;"
and, very consistently with this, he considered himself
no longer as a moral agent, or subject of either reward
or punishment. In this way of thinking and talking
he unalterably and obstinately persisted to the end of
his life; though he afterwards suffered, and even re-
quested prayers to be made for him. Some time after
his secession from the Old Jewry, he retired to Shepton
Mallet, his native place; and though in this retirement
he was perpetually contending that his powers of rea-
son and imagination were gone, yet he was as constantly
exerting both with much activity and vigour. He
amused himself sometimes with translating parts of the
ancient Greek and Latin poets into English verse: he

composed little pieces for the use of children; An
English Grammar and Spelling Book; An Abstract of
the Scripture History, and A Collection of Fables,
both in metre; and with much learning he brought
together in a short compass all the Themata of the
Greek and Latin tongues, and also compiled a Dic-
tionary to each of those works, in order to render the
learning of both these languages more easy and com-
pendious. Of these performances none have been made
public. But what showed the strength and vigour of
his understanding, while he was daily bemoaning the
loss of it, were two works composed during the two
last years of his life, in defence of Christianity, against
Woolston and Tindal. He wrote an answer to Wool-
ston's fifth Discourse on the Miracles of our Saviour,
entitled, A fit Rebuke for a ludicrous Infidel; with a
preface concerning the prosecution of such writers by
the civil power. The preface contains a vigorous plea
for liberty, and is strongly against prosecutions in mat-
ters of religion; and in the Answer, Woolston is as
well managed as he was by any of his refuters, and
more in his own way too. His book against Tindal
was called, A Defence of the Religion of Nature and
the Christian Revelation, against the defective account
of the one and the exceptions against the other, in a
book entitled, Christianity as old as the Creation:
and it is allowed to be as good a one as that contro-
versy produced. He intended to dedicate it to Queen
Caroline; but as the unhappy state of his mind ap-
peared in the dedication, some of his friends very wise-
ly suppressed it, as sure to defeat the use and intent of
his work. The copy however was preserved, and is
subjoined in the note (A), as much too great a curi-
osity

(A) Madam, Of all the extraordinary things that have been rendered to your royal hands since your first
happy arrival in Britain, it may be boldly said, what now bespeaks your majesty's acceptance is the chief. Not
in itself indeed: it is a trifle unworthy your exalted rank, and what will hardly prove an entertaining amuse-
ment to one of your majesty's deep penetration, exact judgment, and fine taste; but on account of the au-
thor, who is the first being of the kind, and yet without a name. He was once a man, and of some little
name; but of no worth, as his present unparalleled case makes but too manifest: for, by the immediate hand
of an avenging God, his very thinking substance has for more than seven years been continually wasting away,
till it is wholly perished out of him, if it be not utterly come to nothing. None, no, not the least remem-
brance of its very ruins remains; not the shadow of an idea is left; nor any sense, so much as one single one,
perfect or imperfect, whole or diminished, ever did appear to a mind within him, or was perceived by it. Such
a present from such a thing, however worthless in itself, may not be wholly unacceptable to your majesty, the
author being such as history cannot parallel; and if the fact, which is real, and no fiction or wrong conceit, obtains
credit, it must be recorded as the most memorable, and indeed astonishing, even in the reign of George II.
that a tract, composed by such a thing, was presented to the illustrious Caroline; his royal consort needs not
be added; fame, if I am not misinformed, will tell that with pleasure to all succeeding times. He has been
informed, that your majesty's piety is as genuine and eminent as your excellent qualities are great and conspi-
cuous. This can indeed be truly known to the great Searcher of hearts only. He alone, who can look into
them, can discern if they are sincere, and the main intention corresponds with the appearance; and your ma-
jesty cannot take it amiss if such an author hints, that his secret approbation is of infinitely greater value than
the commendation of men, who may be easily mistaken, and are too apt to flatter their superiors. But, if he
has been told the truth, such a case as his will certainly strike your majesty with astonishment; and may raise
that commiseration in your royal breast, which he has in vain endeavoured to excite in those of his friends:
who, by the most unreasonable and ill-founded conceit in the world, have imagined, that a thinking being
could for seven years together live a stranger to its own powers, exercises, operations, and state; and to what
the great God has been doing in it and to it. If your majesty, in your most retired address to the King of
kings, should think of so singular a case, you may perhaps make it your devout request, that the reign of
your beloved sovereign and consort may be renowned to all posterity by the recovery of a soul now in the ut-
most ruin, the restoration of one utterly lost, at present amongst men. And should this case affect your royal
breast, you will recommend it to the piety and prayers of all the truly devout who have the honour to be
known

osity to be suppressed. The above pieces were published by Mr. afterwards Dr W. Harris, who, in an advertisement to the reader, recommends the afflicted case of the author, under a deep and peculiar melancholy, to the compassion and prayers of all his friends, and every serious Christian. Mr Brown survived the publication of this last work a very short time. A complication of distempers, contracted by his sedentary life (for he could not be prevailed on to refresh himself with air and exercise), brought on a mortification, which put a period to his labours and sorrows about the latter end of 1732. He was unquestionably a man of uncommon abilities and learning: his management of Woolston showed him to have also vivacity and wit: and, notwithstanding that strange conceit which possessed him, it is remarkable that he never appeared feeble or absurd, except when the object of his frenzy was before him. Besides the two pieces above mentioned, and before he was ill, he had published some single Sermons, together with a Collection of Hymns and Spiritual Songs. He left several daughters.