02. First Part

02. First Part

After he had concluded and dismissed the people, I got my hat, being determined to put an end to my existence that very night. I had something else to do now than to wonder where so great a man as I was to be settled. O the miserable journey I had home that night! What with the sight of my most abominable conduct in going to the deacon’s house with such lies and devilish hypocrisy, and the dreadful accusations of the devil, I felt confident that I could be nothing but a hardened wretch, whom God had given up to a repro­bate mind, and who would soon be proved to be a complete apostate. I was determined to go that very night and try to get on board a man-of-war, and leave wife and children and all. Just before I got home I turned out of the road to go to Liverpool, wringing my hands, sobbing, crying and groaning, till my very soul was in an agony. When I had gone on the Liverpool road about two stone throws these words sounded as loud as if someone had spoken them aloud behind the hedge:- Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan His work in vain;

God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain.

William Cowper (See MERCIES Topic 10)

I stood astonished, and got over the hedge to see if any person was there. Finding no creature there, a hope sprang up. "Who can tell," thought I, "but the Lord will make this plain?" So I concluded to turn back and go home. But before I reached it all my pride, hypocrisy, and lies came afresh to my mind, and such guilt and horror seized my poor soul, that how I staggered into the house I cannot tell. My poor wife, who had been waiting up for me till her patience Was worn out, was quite in a rage with me for stopping so long, and asked me what I thought of myself. But this was a question I durst not answer. She asked me if I called that religion to leave a wife and family and come home at midnight. "And you pretend, too, to be a preacher!" said she. "What can you think of yourself? But you will bring me and the children to the workhouse." For she could see nothing else but that we should all be starved to death, and her fear was that my end would be in a mad-house. I verily feared and believed that every word she spoke should come to pass. I was completely dumb, and could not answer a word. So she asked me if I had lost my tongue. O the dreadful feelings that overwhelmed me, that I had brought nothing but misery upon my family; that I had distressed the church of God, by running before I was sent; that the uncircumcised would hear of it and say, "Ah! so would we have it!" that I had robbed God of His glory, and that I should be treated as a thief. O how the conduct of Uzzah, in putting forth his hands to support the ark of God, made me quake and tremble I "Surely," cried I, "I am the man, and God will strike me dead for my pre­sumption in attempting to speak in His Name." O how Achan’s case shook me, till my very knees were ready to smite together! He stole the wedge of gold, and brought a curse upon Israel; and to him Joshua said, "Why hast thou troubled us? the Lord shall trouble thee this day. And all Israel stoned him with stones." {Joshua 7:25} O how my poor body and soul stag­gered to and fro I "0," cried I, "the wrath of God is coming down upon me." No tongue can tell what I underwent night and day for four weeks. Here I was, day after day, sometimes expecting that the judgment of God would fall upon me and my family. Then Balaam and Judas came to my mind. I saw that Judas had a part in the ministry, and went out to preach; yet he had a devil, and was made manifest to be a deceiver; and his end was, that he murdered himself, and went to his own place. Balaam, too, I saw, had his eyes open, and spoke many precious things, and desired to die the death of the righteous, and that his last end might be like his; yet he loved the wages of unrighteousness. "0," cried I, "this is my very character! What shall I do? Whither shall I flee?" Yet, notwithstanding all these things cut me up in such a manner, the thoughts would rise up about preaching, and this made it ten times worse. And one night (0 dreadful night!) I was so distracted with feeling the thoughts of preaching rising up again in my heart, and the guilt of my wretched conduct in acting so hypocritically, and my cursed pride, and all that it had brought upon me, that the devil set upon me, and tempted me to take an oath that I would never more attempt to preach again, and told me that if I would swear never more to attempt to preach again I should never more be troubled with any thoughts about it. O how I trembled, staggered and reeled to and fro, like a drunken man, and was at my wits end. And truly I felt as if my senses were entirely gone; and at last, through the dreadful feelings of my mind, and the fears that if ever I should attempt to preach again the Lord would consume me in a moment, and thinking if I swore an oath it would set it all at rest. I lifted up my hand and said that I never would preach again. As soon as I had done this, O the horror that fell upon my poor soul and the dreadful roaring of the devil in my heart! "Now it is all over! Now it is all over! You have committed the unpardonable sin, the sin against the Holy Ghost, that can never be forgiven either in this world or in the world to come." O how I sobbed and cried for anguish of soul, and cursed the day wherein I was born! Such awful curses and blas­phemies against God boiled up in my heart that made my very hair to move on my head, and my flesh to grow cold, and my lips to quiver. Surely, thought I it is now all over; I am given up to awful apostasy. And I verily feared that I should die blaspheming God, or else go raving mad. And upon the back of thus these words thundered into my soul as if they would have sunk me to hell in a moment: "For if we sin willfully after we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries. He that despised Moses’ law died without mercy under two or three witnesses. of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the Covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and bath done despite unto the Spirit of grace! For we know Him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me; I will recompense, saith the Lord. And again, The Lord shall judge His people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." {Hebrews 10:26;Hebrews 10:31} I saw no more hope of escaping damnation than the devils do. Another text came on the back of that, which finished it all up, and sealed my destruction, in my own view, as if I were there already: "For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come, if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance; seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put Him to an open shame...That which beareth thorns and briers is rejected, and is nigh unto cursing, whose end is to be burned."

Thus my poor soul was tossed from day to day, and from night to night. Sometimes I feared lest the earth should open her mouth and swallow me up. At others I feared that the very houses I went into would fall down and crush me to atoms, and sink me to hell in a moment. I was sometimes sorely tried to put an end to my wretched life, and try the worst of it; and sure I am that nothing but the power of God can keep a poor soul from self-murder under such distressing things as these. But, blessed be the Lord, He knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptation; for instead of suffering me to plunge myself into self-murder, He gave me a heart to cry mightily unto Him, with groans, cries and tears that He would in tender mercy once more remember the vilest of the vile. O how my poor soul wrestled with my God for another manifestation that He was mine! And how gloriously did He appear, and how blessedly did He deliver my poor soul from hell with these blessed words, which came with such light, life, power and unction, as broke every fetter, and every devil fled at the majesty and power of His voice: "Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you." O blessed voice! powerful voice! Here again I proved that "where the word of a king is there is power." For no sooner were the words heard and felt than all my misery, guilt and torment fled away like a cloud, and the Lord opened to my wondering eyes the glories of His covenant love and mercy that had been fixed upon me from everlasting; and that all my cares, miseries, foolishness, pride and cursed abominations had been laid upon my dear Elder Brother, Jesus; and that He had borne all my griefs, and carried all my sorrows, that the chastisement of my peace was upon Him, and that by His stripes I was healed. O what joy and peace did I feel! and what love I had to my dear Redeemer, who had rescued my poor soul from the lion’s mouth! I was just like a bird let loose from the fowler’s snare. "The snare was broken and I escaped." O how I hated myself for my abominable conduct! But God knows how to bring down the pride of the heart, as well as to exalt the lowly. O the blessing that trial has proved to me hundreds of times since I It has been a really useful lesson, which has never been forgotten. My soul was now walking at large in free access to God, and in sweet communion and fellowship with Him. His people, His cause, and His honour lay near my heart, and my very soul lay passive in His hands, and I was willing to be anything or nothing that He might be glorified. O how I dreaded the thought of being left to myself, worse than a burnt child dreads the fire. I durst not stir a step without a "Thus saith the Lord." I began to fear that I had never had a real testimony from God that He had called me to the work of the ministry; and. I durst not think of attempt­ing it again, except He would be so kind as to give me a manifestation that He had called me to the work. And, bless His dear Name, text upon text came home to my soul with such light, life, liberty, and power, that I believed in my very heart that if I were to hold my peace the very stones would cry out. Here I was led to God in prayer, that if I was sent of Him, He would open a way for me, that what I had received in secret I might declare upon the house-tops; for my soul cried all the day long, "Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what He hath done for my soul." {Psalms 66:16} O how wonderfully the dear Lord answered my poor cries! A few days after this some friends at Bury, in Lanca­shire, with whom I had been in sweet union for a few years, agreed to take a room for prayer, and came to invite me to meet with them. I did so; and on the first Lord’s day that we assembled together we carried on the meeting with singing and prayer. But on the second Lord’s day they invited me to give them a few words of exhortation, and would take no denial, which I therefore did. But I got up with such fear and trembling lest the Lord should stop my mouth, that my knees were so weak that I thought I must have dropped down. The Lord, however, opened my mouth, and favoured me with liberty in speaking; and such life and sweetness flowed into my soul that I was astonished, and the few who were there expressed themselves to be refreshed. If I remember rightly, we were about seven or eight in number, and all exclaimed that the Lord had done great things for us, whereof we were glad. Here my soul was kept for a time in real humility, meekness and quiet, as a child at His feet, begging of Him from my very heart that He would never more suffer the devil and my own evil nature to bloat me up with cursed pride, so as to attempt ever again to rob Him of His glory. But the devil started a fresh thing to my mind, which was a sore trial indeed, that I had never had a real evidence ’that I had the power of the Spirit upon me to anoint me to preach the Gospel. Here, then, I began to search, and to try to find if ever I had received any Scripture testimony that I had the Spirit; for I was confident that unless the Spirit had set me apart for the work it would all come to nothing, and that it would be proved after all that I had run before I was sent, and I knew that if that were the case all would end in the flesh. O how my poor soul went out to God in cries and tears! 0, dear Spirit, art Thou with me? O Holy Comforter, hast Thou anointed me to preach the Gospel? Dear Interpreter, do show me! Here I was for between three and four weeks, searching, groan­ing, crying and longing that God would satisfy me that He had set me apart for the ministry. The few per­sons to whom I had spoken in the room had all testified that God had sent me to the work; but that did not satisfy me. I wanted it from God’s own mouth, and therefore my cry was unto Him; but there was no answer, neither night nor day for several weeks. This brought me to fear that God had never sent me. And how to go and preach until I was satisfied I could not tell; for I trembled lest I should run before I was sent; and the fear that God would stop my mouth again made me to shake like a leaf. I told the few people again and again that I must give it up, for I was afraid that I had never been sent, and that the Lord would stop my mouth. But they insisted upon it that come I must, and declared that if I did not come I should be fighting against God. This put me to a stand again, and what to do I could not tell. Sometimes I thought that the people’s voice was perhaps the will of God, and that I ought to obey it. Then again I thought, "Poor dear things, they are quite deceived in me, for they do riot know but that I have the Spirit;" and I felt deter­mined I would not go until I was satisfied I had the Spirit. When the Lord’s day morning came, O what workings of mind I had! O the dreadful darkness that over­whelmed me that I could neither see nor feel that I was either called to the ministry or even to be a Christian. I began to fear whether the work of grace was really begun in my heart or not. O the confusion and misery I had from three o’clock in the morning until the time came for me to go. Such was my confusion, that I went out without my hat, and my wife came running after me and called out to know where I was going. I told her to Bury. "You had better," said she, "put on your hat." How far I should have gone without it I know not, for I was in such confusion that I feared my senses were going. No text; the Bible a sealed book; no answer to prayer; and the devil roaring, "Pursue him, take him, for God has left him. Today you will be made manifest what you are, both to the people of God and to the world." And what added to my misery, he brought up all my former hypocritical sways and cursed pride, and told me that the time was now come when God would make me a spectacle to men and devils. "0," cried I, wringing my hands in the fields on my way, "would to God that I had never been born! O that I had never attempted to preach! What shall I do? whither shall I go?" Sometimes I stood still and thought of turning back. Then on again I went, begging and crying to the Lord that He would find me a text. But all was dark as darkness itself. Then, cried I, "how is it possible that God has sent me, or will be with me, when He has entirely left me and forsaken me?" Then I stood still. "Surely," thinks I, "I must turn back, and determine to give it up; for if I go, and have nothing to say, the people will call me a thousand fools for coming without a message from God, and wonder that I should be guilty of such horrid presumption." So I turned back, wring­ing my hands, sobbing and crying, "O that I had never been born!" I had not gone back more than three hundred yards, when this text met me like a sword, and sounded in my soul like a trumpet, "No man having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." O it fetched me down to the earth, both body and soul, in a moment! "O Lord," cried I, trembling, "it is hard that I must go neither backward nor forward. O that it would please Thee to show me what I must do. Thou knowest that my heart’s desire is to do Thy will. Lord, what is it that Thou wouldst have me to do? O Lord, do show me; do lead me." But nothing could I get but, "No man looking back is fit for the kingdom of God." Then I felt a resignation to fall into the hands of God, and went forward, telling the Lord to do with me as seemed good in His sight; and, if He had not sent me, to keep me shut up that the people might be satisfied that the Lord had not sent me. When I arrived there, the time being up, I began the service, but had no text. And O what a trembling time I had in prayer! But near the close of it I felt a submission to fall into the hands of God; and whilst they were singing before the sermon, O how my very soul went out to God to find me a text and open my mouth, and then I should know of a truth that He had sent me, and believed if He would answer me, I should never doubt again. Just before they concluded singing, these words came with such light, life, power and sweetness, as overpowered my soul with joy and comfort. I got up and read them as my text; "When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them." {Isaiah 41:17} The dear Lord opened my heart and my mouth too. I felt a springing up of matter in my heart, and my tongue unloosed to speak it with such sweetness and liberty, that I was quite astonished to feel it flow so freely into my soul and out of my mouth. The few souls who were there and who knew the truth, about nine or ten in number, sat under it with great delight, and its fruit was sweet to their taste. Their very souls were alive, and their mouths spoke forth His praise, particularly one old traveler, poor old John Crompton, who had known the truth for about forty years, and had come that morn­ing about nine miles. Poor dear old soul! When I had concluded, he took hold of my hand, with the tears falling down his poor old cheeks, and his countenance shining with the holy anointing, and said, "May the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob bless thee! God has thrust thee out into His vineyard, and has sent thee to preach His everlasting gospel. Be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Thou art young, and hast many fiery trials to pass through; but God has not sent thee a warfare at thine own charges. Fear not, for He will be with thee, and I am confident He will bring thee through them all." O what strength and encouragement did this communicate to my heart! My soul was wonderfully strengthened in the Lord my God, and I believed in my heart that He was with me. I went home at night much refreshed, and could praise and bless His dear Name for His mercy and goodness in going before me in the way. But the next day in comes the devil again with his old plea-that I had not the Spirit. "And what," says he, "is all the testimony of men if you have not the Spirit?" I began to feel a little sinking of mind, and to fear that I should be deceived, and rest satisfied without having the Spirit. So I had an errand again to God; and truly it was a wrestling time indeed, as night and day I was crying out in my heart, "O dear Spirit! hast Thou anointed me to preach the Gospel? Hast Thou come upon me for this very work? Is it Thy dear pleasure that I should preach? and wilt Thou be with me, and wilt Thou accompany Thy Word with power?"

Here my soul was kept wrestling for a day and a night. The second day I was so overcome with earnest­ness in prayer, that I was obliged to leave my work, and go into my bedroom, and take my Bible, and. kneel­ing down before my God, with it shut, wrestled with Him till body and soul were in an agony, that He would be pleased to grant that I might open the Bible, and that the first swords I met with might decide the matter, whether or not. So at last I opened the Bible, and the first words I saw were, "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children; how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him." {Luke 11:13} O the power, the glory, the majesty, the sweetness and goodness of God the Holy Ghost that shined in me and over­whelmed me, was such that I can never find words to express; for it beggars all language to describe. I had just power to crawl on the bed, and there I lay for a time, and had neither power to move or speak for the blaze of glory that shined in me and upon me. O how my poor soul was liberated! The old lying devil fled away. and left the dear Comforter and my soul together. The whole Bible appeared as if it were opened up to my soul. What beauties I saw in the covenant of grace! What wonders I beheld in the glorious doctrine of the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, three distinct Persons in one God! How clearly did I see God the Father in His stripping, emptying, and con­demning me as a sinner by His righteous law! How I was astonished at the great condescension of God the Son in taking my nature into union with His Divine Person, humbling Himself, and becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross, that such a wretch as I might be saved with an everlasting salvation. O the wonderful glory I saw in God the Holy Ghost as my dear Comforter, whose prerogative it is to take of the things of Christ, and reveal them to the soul! I was a living witness that none could call Christ Lord but by the Holy Ghost.

Here my soul was kept for some time with sweetness, humility, softness and meekness; and the precious Bible was so dear to my soul that I found it to be indeed a "light to my path and a lamp to my feet." O the glory and beauty which my soul beheld in the church being chosen by the Father, redeemed by the Son, and sancti­fied by the Holy Ghost! How my heart burned with zeal to God and His cause I Truly I was willing to be anything or nothing that God might be glorified. For a time things went on comfortably, and I fully believed that all was right and straight respecting my call to the ministry, and that the devil was so completely silenced that it was out of his power to bring anything more to upset me. But, alas I alas I this was not the case; for after I had had a few weeks rest he comes with a fresh thing, and tells me that opening the Bible as I did, and fixing my eyes upon the first text was all chance work, and that I might as well have chanced to fix my eyes upon some other words as those; so that could be nothing to depend upon that it was from God. "For," said he, "you never had a text that came with power to your mind, just suited to your case, that you had never read, heard, seen, or opened upon. Now, if God has indeed called you to the work, why did He not send some text into your soul that you never heard of, nor knew to be in the Bible? Surely the Lord is able to do so; and, if you were one that He has thrust out into His vineyard, you would have had it before now." Well, thinks I, perhaps it might have been chance, and I may have been deceived; it might have happened to another who had opened the Bible in the same way; surely the Lord is able to send me a text that I never saw or read in the Bible. My soul had now a fresh errand to the Throne of grace, that God would send me a text with power, that I never knew was in the Bible, just pointed to my case. So on I went, crying from day to day, "Lord, make it manifest in my soul that Thou hast sent me to preach the gospel, by sending into my heart with power some precious text that I never knew was in the Bible, and then I shall be satisfied that Thou hast sent me, and art my God." God, however, appeared to take no notice of me, and here I went on from day to day constantly crying for it, and God deny­ing me it; till at last I began to fear that I must be deceived, and that God had never sent me to the work. Then all my old fears came upon me again, like an army, that I had run before I had been sent, and that God would make it manifest after all what I was.

One night, after the family had gone to bed, such a wrestling spirit of prayer came upon me, that I could not rest, and I told the Lord that I could neither go to bed nor hold my peace until He had satisfied me whether He had sent me to preach or not. And truly it was the case, for such a spirit of prayer came upon me, and text upon text so flowed into my soul to encour­age me to "ask, and it shall be given," that I went down upon my knees, and there I had such a wrestling with cries and tears, that some of my clothes were quite wet with the tears that flowed from my poor eyes. At last I looked up unto the Lord, just like a child, and said in the simplicity of my heart, "Lord, am I Thy child? Art Thou my Father? Wilt Thou not be angry with me for asking Thee to grant me my peti­tion? If it displease Thee, I will not ask it any more? for my will is Thy will." The answer was, with a smile, "Ask, and it shall be given thee." "Well," cried I, like a child, "blessed be Thy precious Name, that Thou art not angry with such a poor worm, that am but dust and ashes. If it please Thy blessed Majesty to conde­scend to hearken to my poor petition, and to grant me my request, my petition and request is, that Thou wilt send me a precious text of Scripture, which I have never heard, nor read, nor know to be in the Bible, with such power and holy anointing into my poor cast-down soul, as to raise me up to the blessed confidence that Thou hast sent me to preach, and bring with it a blessed testimony that Thou art with me." While I was thus in simplicity opening my very heart and soul to the Lord, these words sounded both in my ears and in my heart, in such a manner as if the whole earth heard them as well as myself: "Arise and thresh, O daughter of Zion; for I will make thine horn iron, and thy hoofs brass; and thou shalt beat in pieces many people; and I will consecrate their gain unto the Lord, and their substance unto the Lord of the whole earth." 0, what I felt under it I can never describe! I was confident that the words were in the Bible, from the power I felt from them and the glory that followed them; for such light and glory came with them, and such humility, meekness and confidence were produced by them, and such a complete sweeping away of the devil, with all his "buts," "ifs," and "hows," that I was confident that none but God could do it. The words, I was confident, I had never heard or seen before, and every word came with such power as if it had been printed in my heart by the finger of God. I appealed to the devil, and asked him if I had ever heard or known these words before; but, poor wretch, he was silent enough. And my poor soul was so full of love and wonder at the amazing goodness, condescension and grace of my covenant God, that for days together I hardly knew what I was about; but at every opportunity, I could get, I was searching the Scriptures to see if I could find out the words. At this time I had only a very small Concordance, so that I could not find them by it. At last I came to the prophecy of Micah, and was wonderfully delighted in reading the fourth chapter, till I came to the last words, and there I lighted upon the very words that had come to my mind, word for word. I felt as if my soul would have split my body asunder with the feeling I had of love, praise, adoration and thanksgiving to the dear Name of my dear Lord. O how precious did the words sound again in my soul, "Arise and thresh, O daughter of Zion!" O the delight and joy I found for some time in the blessed word of the Lord I It was my meat and drink to read it and pray over ~t. I felt confident that the Lord was with me, and that all was right; though at the same time I could not tell from day to day how we were to get through the difficulties see had to grapple with. But I was confident that the Lord would be with me, and bring me through to the honour of His Name. But the devil started another thing which tried me sore-that I had never had any real proof that any one soul had been brought out of bondage into happy liberty through me; and how could I ever prove that God had sent me into the vineyard! "For," said he, "whomso­ever God sends with a message of salvation He blesses that message to the deliverance of poor captives, and the opening of the prison doors to them that are bound, and the declaring of the acceptable year of the Lord." Well, thought I, this is truth; for, if God has truly sent me, He will bless me, as His mouth, in the deliverance of poor souls from the bondage and curse of the law. But the devil could not sink me down so lose as he had done before, for these precious words came again, "Arise and thresh, O daughter of Zion!" and they so encouraged me that I was enabled to look to and hope in the Lord for the fulfilling of them in God’s own time; and I firmly believed that the Lord would make it manifest in His own wason. And here I was kept, praying, watching and hoping for a long time. By and by I was invited to supply at a little chapel in Liverpool-in Matthew Street, if I recollect right. Upon one particular time when I was there, I was led out in a very sweet manner in meditation upon these words, "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." {Romans 8:38-39} 0, thinks I, what a time I shall have! I hope there will be the chapel full. But when the time came, and I read my text, I was so shut up and such darkness and confusion overwhelmed me, that I could not tell what to do. All the sweet things that had so pleased me were fled away. I had hard stammering to keep on speaking that God had always loved His own, and that neither sin nor the devil could ever separate them from His love. I kept repeating it for about twenty-five minutes, and then gave it up all at once, and said, "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen." As soon as ever I could get down out of the pulpit I took my hat, and through the chapel I went as hard as ever I was able, and was determined to take the first coach in the morning and go home, for I verily believed that if ever I were to show my face again there the people would cry open shame upon me. As soon as I got out of the chapel I went with all the haste I could to my lodging, afraid to look at anybody, or that anybody should look at me; calling myself a thousand fools for ever coming to the place, and wishing that I had never opened my mouth, for I thought it was now plain and evident that the Lord had left me. Thus I went on, out of one street into another; but I observed that a woman kept close after me for some time, which I could not make out. I tried to evade her, but could not. At last she stepped up to me and said, "Pray, sir, are not you the minister that has been preaching in Matthew Street Chapel to­night?" I verily thought the woman had followed me when she spoke of my preaching, to reprove me for my presumption in attempting to preach. I told her, but so crossly that I could hardly bear myself, that I was the man who had been in the pulpit, and attempted it, but that there had been no preaching. On this the poor woman fell into a flood of tears, and hoped that I would pardon her for taking the liberty to speak to me, for she was not worthy; but she could not help follow­ing me to tell me that she had reason to bless God that she had been there, for it had been preaching to her, and such preaching, too, as she had never heard before. At this my soul was melted within me, and I asked her what it was she had heard that was so sweet to her. She spoke with such sweetness, humility and confidence, that she had received the pardon of all her sins. "For," continued she, "I have been for months nearly in black despair, and was going this very night to the water to drown myself, being determined to try the worst of it, for I believed I could never be in a worse hell. As I was going by the chapel they were singing, and it struck my mind to turn in. When the service was concluded I thought it would be dark, and then I could go to the water unperceived. So I went in, and, blessed be the Lord, the text and all that you said came into my heart, and God told me He had loved me with an everlasting love, and that my sins, though many, were all forgiven; and many more precious things which quite overcame me with wonder and adoration to the God of all my mercies." My heart was too full to talk much with the poor woman, for I felt my very soul so melted down at the dear feet of a precious Jesus for giving testimony to the word of His grace through such a worthless pipe, that I was not for going home now, but was willing to be anything or nothing that God might be glorified. And O how sweetly the old text came, "Arise and thresh, O daughter of Zion!" What a sweet night I had in meditating upon the Word of God. Promise upon promise flowed in so fast that it appeared to me the whole Bible was full of them. O how sweet and precious were these words of Paul: "It has pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." {1 Corinthians 1:21} "Well," cried I, "and why should it displease me?" Then O what blessed confi­dence I had that God had sent me to the work; and now I had a full testimony, and I really believed it was out of the power of the devil ever to shake my confi­dence again. My soul was for a time kept in sweet confidence that God was with me, and would ever go before me, though in such trials in temporal things that I did not know how to get bread from day to day. But when God gives peace, who or what can give trouble? The Lord went on to give testimony to the word of His grace from my poor mouth, and made it manifest that He was with me by signs following. This was establishing and comforting to my soul, for I verily believe that if God had not owned my poor labours in delivering souls from bondage into liberty, I must have given it all up. But the Lord saith, "A true witness delivereth souls." {Proverbs 14:25}

I shall now proceed to relate a few providential trials and deliverances which have happened to me since I was called to the work of the ministry, which have driven me to such despair at times that I have often said, "My soul chooseth strangling and death rather than life." {Job 7:15} But when deliverance has come, it has been a fresh song of praise to God, and I have seen it all right, and would not have been without them for all that the world calls good or great. The Lord knows how to secure the glory to Himself.

Bury was the first place where I began to preach in the regular way; and, after a few months, the people increased, if I recollect rightly, to about thirty. We then agreed to take a larger room in a street called, I think, King Street. There we met for some time, still continuing to increase a little. And then they engaged to give me four shillings per week for twelve months. We had at that time six children under twelve years of age, and being nothing but a weaver, I was some­times driven into such straits and trials that I verily believed my end would be the poor-house; indeed, I could not see how it could be possible for us to escape it. When I had not the sweet presence of God shining in my soul, I was sunk into fears that I should never be able to hold on my sway without bringing a reproach upon the cause of God. For several weeks I seemed to be going into a decline, for what with preaching, hard work and faring so hard that sometimes for days together I had not half enough to satisfy sinking nature, I was brought so low that I could scarce crawl about; but I was forced to attend to the work as well as I could.

One morning, I well recollect, I had been up very early, trying to get my work finished as soon as I could, for there was not one morsel to have until I had carried it home. Between eleven and twelve o’clock I had to send a girl to fetch me some yarn from the master’s to finish with. My wife, having a child at the breast, burst out into tears, and said, "0 dear, I am so faint and weak that I cannot live, for you cannot get the piece in before dinner, and it will be nearly night before we can have anything!" I tried to cheer her up all that I could, and told her we could not tell but that the Lord might send us a good dinner by some means or other; but she said she knew there would be no such thing. The girl comes by and by with the yarn to finish my work, and brings a bag in her hand, saying, "I found this bag in the middle of the road; I thought it be­longed to a man who was driving a cart, and I called out to him, and told him that he had lost a bag; but he said he had not. I said it was not mine, for I had found it in the road; and I would have given it him, but he said I must take it home, for he should not have it." So I opened the bag, and the first thing I brought out was a large piece of bread and of meat, next a large piece of cheese, and a very good pudding. O how I stood wondering and adoring, blessing and praising the kind hand of my covenant God for supplying my needs in such a way! O how sweet were those words, "The cattle upon a thousand hills are Mine; the earth is Mine; and all the gold and silver are Mine!" And, upon the back of it, how sweet did that promise flow into my soul, "Thy bread shall be given thee; thy water shall be sure." {Isaiah 33:16} Here I saw that the Lord had all in His hands, both in heaven and on earth-angels, men and devils; and my soul kept hanging upon Him from week to week. A little time after this I was invited to preach one Lord’s day at a little place in Cheshire, of which I for­get the name, but which was about twelve or thirteen miles from home. I left home on the Saturday in a most miserable state of mind, for not one penny of money or one six-pennyworth of provisions did I leave in the house. There was nothing but gloominess, poverty and darkness, both within and without. My wife declared that she believed I should go on preaching until they were all starved to death. But go I must; and off I set with an aching heart indeed; and a most trying, miserable journey I had, for the devil set on me hard without mercy, and brought all my debts and miseries and set them before me, and the impossibility of my ever being able to get through them with honesty. And such unbelief and darkness, confusion and misery, laid fast hold of me, and such weakness of body for want of something to eat, that I feared I should never reach the end of my journey. But the dear Lord broke into my soul with such sweetness, that I could have died for Him. He assured me that He would be with me, and would surely go before me and bring up the rear­ward. "Fear not," said He, "for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God." O this was enough! for I knew that it would be all right if He were with me. O how easy and pleasant it was to feel His kind hand sustaining me, for I felt in my very soul that He cared for me. With what ease and pleasure could I leave my family in His hands, and I felt a sweet con­fidence that He would incline the hearts of His people to communicate to my necessities, which I proved to be the case in a wonderful manner.

I arrived safe at my journey’s end, and a sweet night I had upon my bed in wondering, praising and blessing my God for His lovingkindness in bringing me, a poor worm, thus far. I could indeed say from my heart feel­ingly, "Having therefore obtained help of God, I con­tinue unto this day." {Acts 26:22} I awoke in the morning (being Lord’s day) in a very sweet frame, and at the time went to the place of meeting, which was a house that a few people met in for public worship. There were but few there, and they but very poor people in general, but the Lord was there with His blessing, which "maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow with it." A comfortable day it was, and I do think the best wine was saved to the last, for the poor souls seemed to be all alive, and having so freely received of spiritual things, they thought it a light thing to communicate carnal things. Some gave me sixpence, some a shil­ling, some one thing and some another, until I was quite astonished. In the morning (Monday) a young woman at the house where I slept, gave me half-a-guinea, and said that she had made up her mind to do so, and that I must have it. And I was to call at two or three places on my way home, and there the poor things had collected their shillings and sixpences together, and a handkerchief full of cakes to carry home to the children. I declared that I would go home, for I had robbed them enough. When I got on my way, I stopped to count up the money which the Lord had provided, and, as nearly as I can recollect, I had thirty-four shillings in all, and a bundle of cakes. So on I went home full of joy, thanksgiving and praise to the God of all my supplies, who had given such testimony to the word of His grace, and had so wonderfully supplied my wants and necessities for the body. All was right both at home and abroad. "Surely," exclaimed my soul, "I can never forget His tender mercies and loving-kindness to one so vile and unworthy of the least of all His mercies." But I soon found again that the day of adversity was set over against the day of prosperity, and that there is sure to be night after the day. For I soon had fresh exercises. One Saturday I was all confusion, for I could not get a text, and I had to supply on the Lord’s day for Mr. Gadsby. 0, thinks I, what shall I do, and where can I go? And such abominations were working in my heart all day that I began to fear whether I was a partaker of grace or not. To finish up my misery, late on Saturday night I received a note from a man to whom I had owed for some time two pounds ten shil­lings, that if I did tiot come and pay it on the Monday following, he would not wait any longer, and that it would be in vain for me to come and beg for any longer time. O how my poor soul and body shook and trembled! Now, thinks I, God is bringing me to a complete end; now will the mouths of the uncircum­cised be opened: "Ah so would we have it." And how these words came into my soul like a thunderbolt, "The thing that I greatly feared is come upon me."

O what a tremendous night I had to pass through, sometimes almost in despair! But before morning the Lord gave me a hope that He would appear, and how sweet were these words: "Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me." {Psalms 50:15} Indeed, I had nowhere else to look but unto Him who had the hearts of all in His hands. I left home on the Lord’s day morning for Manchester, which was about five miles; and I believe if ever I did pray in all my life, I prayed those five miles that God would appear for me that day, both as a God of provi­dence and of grace. When I began to preach the two pounds ten shillings were all taken away, and I do believe that the Lord was with me. But when I had done preaching the devil came again with all his accusations that I should bring a reproach upon the cause of God. "And did not I know," said he, "what I had to pay tomorrow, and that I had nothing towards it?" I could not answer him a word, but shook like a leaf, and wished I had never come. O how I sighed and groaned in my very soul! As I was going out of the chapel, an old lady put out her hand to shake hands and left half-a-guinea in my hand. O what a surprise was this to me! 0, thinks I, who can tell but God may put it into the hearts of whom He will to give me the rest. O how my poor soul poured itself out to Him that He would go before me and provide what He knew I was in need of, that I might have another testimony that He was with me, that He was my God, and that I, a poor worm, was His servant. I had such an opening up to Him, and such a prevailing with Him in prayer, that I believed He heard and would answer my cry. The time arrived for me to preach in the afternoon, and I felt it good to speak of what I had handled and felt of the good Word of life. But when I had done my old fears came again, How could the two pounds ten shillings be made up? Into the vestry I went trembling, and found the old lady who had given me the half-guinea in the morning. She shook hands with me and said, "Sir, when I got, home my heart smote me, as David’s heart smote him." At this I trembled greatly. Surely, thinks I, she is come for the half-guinea back again. What shall I do? But instead of this the old lady said, "My heart smote me because I did not give you more; but now I have brought my pocket-book with me, and I will give you two pounds more." At which I burst out into a flood of tears, for I could not help it. At this the poor old lady was much surprised, and asked me what was the matter. I told her that I had a note sent me on Saturday night from a person to whom I owed two pounds ten shil­lings, and if I did not come and pay him on Monday, he would put me to trouble. "And now, to see that the Lord has put it into your heart to give me the money and sixpence over, it breaks my soul in love to God as the giver, and to you as the instrument." At this the old lady burst into tears too, and we both wept together for joy. "0," said she, "it is better to give than to receive." But I could not think it was, for I was so full of the goodness, mercy, kindness, faithful­ness and glory of God to such a poor worthless worm, that I was quite full and abounded. There was no room for any one thing more. I think I shall never forget the poor old lady’s feelings when she emptied all her money out of her pocket-book (which appeared to be about ten or twelve pound notes) upon the table, and with such earnestness, and tears running down her cheeks declared, "It is all yours; you shall have it all." "0 no," cried I, "God forbid that I should do this thing. He has put it into your heart to give me the debt, and sixpence over, and I dare not take one penny more, and will not. It is not mine. What God moved you to give me is mine, but the rest is yours." She blessed me and I blessed her, so that there was nothing but blessing between us. She blessed God that He had ever put it into her heart to relieve a servant of His in distress, and I blessed God in my soul that I had received. So the giver and the receiver blessed the Lord together, and He had all the glory. O how sweet was that text when I came out of the vestry: "The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad." O what a night of comfort and joy did I pass through in viewing the glories of my covenant God, both in providence and grace, to one so very unworthy. And how I hated myself for my wretched distrust of Him who had so often appeared in such wonderful ways for me, and had ever been my present help in all my times of trouble! O how I wanted the morning to come, that I might go and pay the man what I owed him, which was a greater pleasure for me to do than for him to receive it. The friends gave me a pound for supplying on the Lord’s day, so that I went home with money to pay my debt and money for my family to live upon. O the goodness and mercy of a covenant God in delivering His poor, tried children in such times of great distress, when there is no human eye to pity nor arm to help! O how my poor soul entered into those blessed words, "I will bring the blind by a way that they know not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known; I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them." How delightfully could I sing, "Goodness and mercy have followed me all my life long." "His mercies are new every morning; great is His faithfulness." "0 Lord, Thou art my God; I will exalt Thee." I went on pretty comfortably for a few weeks, enjoying the presence of God; and all is well when this is the case. For it was a rare thing indeed for me to be out of temporal difficulties; for having a large family, and being nothing but a poor weaver, and getting but four shillings per week for my regular preaching at Bury, it was seldom anything else but debts, miseries, and trials of all sorts, except at those times when the presence of my God and Saviour shone into my heart and made bare His arm in delivering and providing in His wonderful providence. At those times and seasons I envied no man upon earth, and would not have one thing altered. I could see, at such times, that it was a right way to a city of habitation, and could sing with pleasure, "My Jesus hath done all things well." But I have ever found one text of Scripture to be truth: "I will bring the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried. They shall call upon My Name, and I will hear them: I will say, It is My people; and they shall say, The Lord is my God." One instance just strikes my mind.

One evening I had been out preaching about seven miles from home, and when I was returning, it being late before I reached home, O what a keen feeling of hunger came upon me before I got there. And what was my greatest distress, I knew there was nothing to eat when I got home. O the dreadful feelings and hard thoughts which rose up in my mind against God! I dare neither speak nor write them. O the dreadful rebellion I felt against His dealing so hardly with me, that when I was hungry I could not have even bread and water! "Ah," cried the old adversary, "where are your fine promises now that you have so often boasted of- ’Thy bread shall be given thee, and thy water shall be sure?’" Just as I entered the house these words struck my mind: "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head." O what a sight had I of the sufferings of my dear Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and what He endured in this vale of tears, from the cradle to the cross, for such a wretch as I! And how it sounded in my heart, "And did my Lord suffer, and shall I repine?" How I blushed and was ashamed at my wretched feelings and rebellions! I did not know where to hide my guilty face. "0," cried I, "what are my sufferings of hunger compared with Thy bloody sweat in the garden for such a monster as I?" How I looked upon Him, and what a godly mourning I had over my sins and over Him! And how I begged that He would forgive me; and the hatefulness I had against myself for my sins no tongue can tell! "0," cried I, "how could I be so base as to have such hard thoughts of Thee who has blessed me with so many mercies?" How sweet were these words, "Though He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor, that we through His poverty might be made rich." What wonders did I see in all the goodness that God had caused to pass before me in my way up to that very moment! My little empty house was a palace now in my eyes, full of all sorts of riches. I suppose that it was rather late in the evening when I reached home, for my wife and children were all in bed and fast asleep, for which I was thankful, as I wanted to enjoy the sweet company of my dear Lord, for it was heaven upon earth to my soul to be with Jesus. By and by I found my poor body very weak, and I took the candle and went to search if I could find an old crust of bread. After some little searching I found an old crust which had been laid aside a long time, until it was quite hard and not fit for food. I then got a cup of water, and if ever my soul went out to God in prayer it was then, that He would bless it to the satisfying of my hungry appetite. And how sweet it came into my mind that Jesus turned water into wine at the marriage feast. And I believed in my heart that He was the same yesterday, today, and for ever. I looked up to Him just like a child, and begged of Him that He would bless this morsel of bread and water, that I might prove that He was the Lord my God. O how precious were those words to my soul. "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." How I was overcome, and blessed, and praised, and thanked His dear Majesty that He had blessed the rich food that I was about to eat. O how my soul did thank Him for it. I took the dry crust, but it was so softened and enriched with the love and mercy of God that the manna never tasted more sweet to the Israelites than the old crust did to my taste. I blessed and thanked God, and took the water, and it was richer to my taste than the richest wine I have ever drunk since. I never felt my body more refreshed, nor my appetite more satis­fied: I had everything needful and abounded. My soul again entered into that text, "The blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich, and He addeth no sorrow with it." "Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith."

O the preciousness of having the presence of a covenant God enjoyed in our hearts by precious faith! Truly when God gives peace who can give trouble? But the good Shepherd saith, "The sheep shall go in and out, and find pasture;" and this I have ever found to be the case, for I had fresh trials coming on which I did not expect. As we had been increasing in the second room that we met in at Bury, we were encouraged after a time to take a third room, still larger, if I remember rightly, in a place called Butcher Lane. Here we for a time in­creased still more. But a few of the church found much fault with me for leaving them so often on a Lord’s day; and one of the deacons told me that I had never been anything but a burden to them, and that he won­dered how I could have a good conscience in taking four shillings a week from such a few poor people. O how this cut up my poor soul I for at the same time I was over head and ears in debt, and sometimes when I left home I had not half enough for breakfast from week to week. When unbelief and carnal reason were ~uppermost I was almost at my wits’ end to know what to do. I felt this a hard blow from a deacon, who professed by his office to be my right-hand man. The blow was so heavy that I could not stand it, and I told him that, as that was the case, I would not be a burden to them any longer. We had several meetings, but we could not be reconciled. So I gave it up, and the place was kept on for some time with supplies, but was soon given up.

I believe that I shall ever remember with a grateful heart dear Mr. Gadsby {4|} and the dear church of which I composed an unworthy part, for their unbounded kindness towards me whenever they knew that I was set fast and could not move on. Their language was, with a smile, "John has got fast again: come, we must give him another lift." And cheerfully they communicated again and again. I never found them slack or tired; but have wondered at them hundreds of times how it was they were not tired of such a troublesome being as I was to them for years. They did indeed act like brethren in my distresses.

About this time I was invited to go and preach at Pool Moor, in Yorkshire, and I believe the Lord went with me, and blessed the word to many of them. My very soul fell in love with the people and the chapel, though it stood almost in the midst of a large common. Indeed, I was so taken up with the people and the place that I thought I must die if the Lord would not grant me the situation. I thought that it was just the very spot that God had designed for me, and believed it was the case, because my heart was so knit to it. At that time the people were without a pastor, and many of them were very fond of me. "0," said I, "it will come to pass in the Lord’s own time;" for I was sure that there was nothing impossible with Him, seeing that He had so many times answered my prayers, and had never failed me in all my straits, but had ever been my prayer-hearing and prayer-answering God. So I set to work with all my might to pray for the place. For, thinks I, the Lord says, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in My Name it shall be given;" and, "Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." I could bring in plenty of Scriptures if I could but persuade the Lord to perform it in the way that I wanted. And I thought there was no other way but to keep on crying for it night and day; for, thinks I, "The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force." I went several times to supply at this chapel, and every time I went I was more and more in love with the situation. 0, thinks I, it is just the very spot for my large family. So again I cried and prayed from week to week; and, to my views at that time, I had such assurances from the Word of God and my own feelings, that I believed at times I was as sure to have it as that there was a God. They had, if I recollect right, Mr. Webster, from Liverpool, to supply a few times, and most of the people were very much attached to him; and, as the time drew on, as I under­stood that the church intended to give him a call, and some of them expected that it would be done before I came again, they did not, therefore, expect that I should be needed any more after my next journey. But I did not feel much sunk down at this, for I thought that they did not know how many cries and tears I had put up to God. The next Lord’s day for my supply was, I think, three weeks from this time, and some of the people hoped it would be my last. And, 0, what a three weeks cry I had! It was almost night and day. I shall never forget, at times, when the Saturday came for me to go, what a journey I had of about twenty-two miles. I verily believed, according to my feelings, if it were settled for Mr. Webster to be their pastor that it would kill me. I arrived in the evening at the house of one of the members, about a mile short of my lodging, and as soon as I got in: "Well, by this time," said I, "I suppose you are settled with a minister, so that I shall not need to toil over any more?" "Why," answers the man, "it was settled for Mr. Webster to come; some of us indeed did not wish it, but numbers overpowered us, and we must submit." 0, I thought I must have dropped down in the house! I got my hat, and told the man that I must go. He tried hard to keep me in the house to sit and talk with him; but O no! for if I had not gone out I must have roared out in the house. So out I went, and got into a little valley between two hills, where I believed no soul could hear me, and there I roared out like a raging bear bereaved of her whelps: nay, I had hard work to keep from tearing the very hair from my head. I roared and wept while I had power to weep. Then the devil set on with all his hellish spleen, and worked up such infidelity in my heart that I never can express a thousandth part of it. "Now," says he, "what do you think of the Bible? Do you think it is true? Have you not prayed for this place hundreds of times, and have not floods of tears flowed from your eyes for it? And does not this Bible say, ’He that soweth in tears shall reap in joy?’ but you have sowed in tears and reap in sorrow. And does not the Bible tell you that whatsoever you asked it should be given you? but you have asked, and you believed that you should have the place, and have been denied. There is no God, and the Bible is nothing but priestcraft, and all your preaching and religion is nothing but an empty farce." I roared out again, "0 that I could but die! O that I could but sink out of existence!" And such hatred and such awful blasphemies rose up in my heart against God that I felt that, if it were possible, I could have pulled Him from His throne and stamped Him under my feet. O how I struggled till the sweat ran down my wretched face to keep my mouth from uttering what boiled up in my heart! At last I got to my lodging, but could not sit down, for I was in such a state that I could hardly speak, and my face was foul with weeping. I desired the mistress to give me a candle, and said I would go to bed, for I was very bad. She tried to persuade me all she could that I would let her make something for me that would do me good, but I told her that I wanted nothing but rest; so I took the candle and into my bed­room I went. And the tossings to and fro! sometimes in bed and sometimes walking the room till about four or five o’clock in the morning, till I verily thought that my natural senses were going, and felt quite confident that a mad-house would be my place. But as to pray, to hope, or ever think it possible for me to preach again, I could as soon blot out the sun with my hand as do any of them. But I shall never forget the sound of those words that dropped like rain, and did indeed distil like the dew: "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter." {John 13:7} O the soft­ness these words produced in my heart in a moment! The beasts of the forest all gathered themselves into their dens, my soul sprang up like a bird that had broken out of the snare, and I cried out, "It is the voice of my Beloved." O how my poor soul was melted down at His blessed feet! I covered my shameful face, and could neither look nor speak for wonder and astonishment at what it could all mean. How sweetly did He draw me forth by His blessed words of peace, "Let me see Thy countenance, let me hear Thy voice; for sweet is Thy voice, and Thy countenance is comely." {Song of Solomon 2:14} My soul was so drawn out and encouraged that I went down on my knees, and felt just like a child. "Lord, how is it, and why is it that my prayers are not answered? 0, dear Lord, do show me how it is, and why it is! Thou knowest that I cannot tell how it is, nor why it is! Do, my dear Lord, show Thy poor ignorant, sinful and helpless child: do, my dear Jesus, show me." And O with what light, life, and power did He speak these words into my heart that settled the thing in a moment, and showed me the why and the how: "Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts." {James 4:3} O how clearly did I see it was all my own fleshly planning and contriving, and that it was to gratify my own fleshly pleasure. O how sweetly could I give it all up into the hands of my covenant God! Never did I go and preach a sermon in my life with more peace and love than my last in Pool Moor Chapel. How I could pray that if it were the Lord’s will He would bless them in their choice of a minister. So that what I expected would have been to me nothing but death and destruction was turned into the greatest bless­ing that I ever had in all my life. O the use I have found it to me hundreds of times since! O the num­bers of times I have blessed God for it! But my soul was knit to a few of them, and they were knit to me in love that was never dissolved, and never will be, neither in time or to all eternity. After a time a few of them separated and took a room, where I went occasionally to supply them for many years, and God owned my poor labours amongst them.

About this time I was invited to go and preach to a few people that had been separated from Mr. Littlewood’s church at Rochdale for going to hear Mr. Gadsby, who then came once a month to preach at Rochdale on a week evening. They had taken a room to meet in, and after a few times I engaged to go regu­larly every Lord’s day, for which, if I remember aright, they engaged to give me six shillings a time. I had nine miles to go, and I think I went regularly for about twelve months, when, as the place was increased, they gave me a call, which I accepted. This was either in the year 1809 or 1810. And here I met with many comforts and many sorrows, and some downright real friends, as well as some downright real enemies, the latter of whom appeared when I first went amongst them as though they would have pulled out their eyes and given them to me; but I found in the end their language was, "Crucify him I crucify him!" Truly it is "through much tribulation that we must enter into the kingdom of heaven." But notwithstanding all, "The righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall wax stronger and stronger." The {Job 17:2} Lord hath said that "surely the wrath of man shall praise Him, and the remainder of wrath He will restrain;" {Psalms 76:10} and so have I many times found it, to the honour of His Name. O the miserable journeys I had sometimes for about two years from the place where I then lived to Rochdale. I have many times left home with neither money nor provisions in the house, over head and ears in debt, full of carnal reason and unbelief, and not able to see how ever I could escape bringing a reproach upon the cause of God and truth. O how my poor soul has roared out like a bear, and mourned sore like a dove, when I have been pass­ing through the lonely fields on my way on a Saturday night or sometimes on a Lord’s day morning, many times without a text, all my debts staring me in the face, no appearance of getting through a single week, and all our clothes nearly worn out. O the many times I have roared out in the fields, "What a fool I must be to go on attempting to preach when everything is so completely against me!" How many times did I tell the people that I must give it all up, for I was confi­dent I should never be able to get through with honour to the cause of God and truth. But they only laughed at me, and told me that if I knew nothing of these trials I should not do for them, and they were at a point that I was in the best school God could put me in for the pulpit. How often my soul exclaimed, "Miserable comforters are ye all." {Job 16:2} I was confident that, if were the best school, it was a very hard one to flesh and blood. Nevertheless. I always found in the end that they told the truth; and I am as confident of it as I am of my own existence, that there has been a "needs be" for every trial which my dear God and Saviour has sent me, and that there has not been one too many. They have been all in their place in the hands of God, to empty me and strip me of all my human props, and bring me to God as "my All and in all." And I have ever found it, that when I have been set fast, and could not turn to the right or to the left, it was generally the case with me, fool-like, to fly to God as the last spot. When every other refuge failed, I was obliged to roll my burden upon Him. How many times have I wept, and thought that He never could have patience with me long, and that I should tire Him out; but, bless His precious Name, I have ever found Him both able and willing to sustain me. Let me be sunk into whatever difficulties I might, however trying they might be, I have always found that there were no impossibilities with Him, nor anything too hard for Him to manage. How often have I come home to an empty house, and brought with me just the very things we needed; so that we kept just getting through one trial after another, as it were, by the skin of our teeth.

One time we were completely set fast to make up the rent. We had somehow or other got it up save one guinea, and that we could not get from any source we could tell of. But a thought struck my mind that I would try the next Lord’s day to borrow it of one of my friends at Rochdale, who I expected would lend it me, as the following Monday was the day to pay my rent. O the journey I had to Rochdale of prayer to God that He would open the way! I told Him that I had nowhere else to go but unto Him, who had ever been my present help in all times of trouble. "0 do, dear Lord, open the heart of someone to lend it me, and I will bless Thee as long as I live." I felt sweet access to Him, and readily believed that He heard my prayers, and that I should bring the money home. But how my poor soul was disappointed! For after I had done preaching on the Lord’s day, I mentioned the affair to one who, I thought, could do it, but he had it not at that time in his power. O how I sank down in my feelings, and set off home miserable enough, and verily believed it was now all over, and in such darkness and unbelief and carnal reasoning, until I was almost distracted. But when I came to a village called Heywood, through which I had to pass on my way home, it just struck my mind that I had to call to leave a message from Mr. Gadsby, at an old lady’s who lived there, that he was coming over on such an evening. I rapped at the door, and told the servant my message, and the old lady being in the parlour heard me, and insisted that I should come in and have some refreshment. I wished to be excused, as I had a long way to go home and it was getting late. Besides, I was so miserable that I thought ladies would be no company for me. But she would have no denial, and said I must come in. So in I went and sat down. And how it was I cannot tell, but so it was, that the moment I sat down I forgot my rent and all my misery, as if it had taken wings and flown away; and there being a young lady there who was keeping her company, I began to talk of the things of God with such freedom that I was astonished at my feelings. The young lady burst into tears, and said, "These are the very things I have been exercised with in my mind. Are these the feelings of Chris­tians?" At which my very soul was melted down in a moment, and my mouth was so opened that I began to speak of the way in which the Lord had led me, with such sweetness and pleasure, that I quite forgot my rent and every other calamity with it, and, to my feelings, could have sat all night. But I found by the clock that it was time for me to be going, for I had about seven miles to go, in a dark night and by a miserable road. The old lady desired me to spend a few minutes in prayer, and truly I felt it a time of prayer, and of praise too, in thanking God for the interview we had had together, so that I did not know how to conclude. It was indeed a melting time to us all. When I arose from my knees, and was taking leave of them, the old lady left a guinea in my hand, at which I burst aloud into a flood of tears in the room, and could not help it. They were both alarmed, and asked me what was the matter. As soon as ever my feelings would suffer me to speak, I told them that tomorrow was my rent day, and that I was a guinea short of making up my rent, and had tried all I could to get it, but could not; and to see the goodness and tender mercy of my covenant God in putting it into your heart to give it! O how the poor old lady wept for joy along with me, in seeing the goodness of God. I left them with ten thousand blessings from my heart, and on my road home I went with transports of joy, viewing the matchless wonders of my covenant God. O how my soul could sing with sweet melody in my heart:

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.

O how my soul could shout out:

God is His own interpreter, And He has made it plain.

William Cowper.

How clearly did I see that it was all of God, who had opened up the way that I could go and pay my rent, and that the enemies could not say, "Ah! so would we have it." O how sweet was David’s song: "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters; He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with mc; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." I now for a short time enjoyed the pre­sence of the Lord; and O what pleasure and heavenly delight it is to see the good hand of God "leading the blind by a way they know not, and making crooked things straight!" Surely such displays of God’s kind­ness, both as the God of providence and of grace, will confirm and establish a soul in the love, power, faith­fulness, goodness, mercy, kindness and unchangeableness of a covenant God and Saviour, more than all the commentators in the world. For such tried and de­livered souls as these are God’s witnesses: "Ye are My witnesses, saith the Lord, that I am God, and there is none else." My poor soul, in the enjoyment of Him, could now trust Him for all, thank Him for all, and glorify Him for all. I could sing and say from my very heart, "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy Name give glory, for Thy mercy and for Thy truth’s sake."

Some little time after this we began to build a new chapel at Rochdale, where I then laboured, and had done so for some time; and the Lord having blessed my labours, we were crowded in the room in which we then met, and therefore began a new chapel. It was truly wonderful and amazing to see how the Lord opened a way for us, for we were a very poor people. But O how many times did we prove that portion of God’s Word, "The cattle upon a thousand hills are Mine, and all the gold and silver is Mine." For He opened the hearts of the people far and near, to communicate towards the raising up of Hope Chapel, which we called it, for we said it was begun in hope, carried on in hope, and a hope, too, which will never make ashamed. So we called it Hope Chapel. Through many toils and difficulties, at length we got the chapel up, but with a considerable debt upon it, which was very heavy on our shoulders.

After preaching some time in the chapel, the friends wished me to come with my family to Rochdale; but I was stuck so fast with many little debts that I could not tell how I could possibly remove from the place I was in. It appeared to me to be utterly impossible; but I found, again, that what was impossible with me, was possible with God. And, blessed be His dear Name, He again made it manifest that He was able to deliver me from that Sodom, for I could call it nothing else for years. He opened the hearts of one and another who just helped us out, so that not one enemy of God and truth could say, "Ah! so would we have it." O how the devil had for years, at times, harassed my poor soul, that when I was moved from that place it would be to the poor-house! So that when my traps were put up in the cart, and not a dog was able to move his tongue, I felt as if my poor soul would have burst through the body with joy. O how sweetly did Hannah’s song flow into my heart and out of my mouth unto God!

"My heart rejoiceth in the Lord; mine horn is exalted in the Lord; my mouth is enlarged over mine enemies; because I rejoice in Thy salvation. There is none holy as the Lord; for there is none beside Him; neither is there any rock like our God. Talk no more so exceed­ing proudly; let not arrogancy come out of your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by Him are actions weighed. The bows of the mighty are broken, and they that stumbled are girded with strength." O how my poor soul adored Him, loved Him, and praised Him for opening such a way that not one enemy could bring a just charge against me to the dishonour of His Name and cause, which were dearer to my soul than life itself. But, is anything too hard for the Lord? So off we went with six children, we having seven in all, but the eldest did not then live at home. We arrived safe at Rochdale, with my heart full of the blessing of the Lord. And O what a sweet time I had in my new habitation, in raising up an altar to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who had fed me all my life long! The Angel of His Presence, who had redeemed me from all evil, so ravished my heart with wonder and amazement, that I scarcely knew whether I was in the body or out of it. His boundless goodness, both in providence and grace, so shined into my poor soul, that it was truly delightful and pleasant to see His goodness pass before me in the way. Here I expected I should have a smoother path and things more comfortable. Ever since the Lord had opened my poor mouth in His dear Name, there was one request I had made, that He would open a place for me where I might have my family with me on the Lord’s day. Truly I had many sweet promises that this would be the case in His own time and way; but little did I think God would favour me with a habitation adjoining the chapel. But so it was! And I verily believe, on the Lord’s day when my wife and children entered the chapel, I should have fainted away in the pulpit had not the dear Lord sup­ported me. O with what power did I feel those words of David, "Thou hast caused men to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water: but Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place. I will go into Thy house with burnt offerings; I will pay Thee my vows, which my lips have uttered, and my mouth hath spoken, when I was in trouble. I will offer unto Thee burnt sacrifices of fatlings, with the incense of rams; I will offer bullocks with goats. Selah. Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what He hath done for my soul. I cried unto Him with my mouth, and He was extolled with my tongue. If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me; but verily God hath heard me; He hath attended to the voice of my prayer. Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my prayer, nor His mercy from me." {Psalms 66:12-20} For several weeks I went on very comfortably, and was favoured very much with the sweet presence of the Lord in giving me a sight of the way He had led me, and I could say from my heart, "He hath done all things well." {Mr 7:37} "Not one thing hath failed of all the good things He hath promised." {Joshua 23:14} But I soon found plenty of work for prayer, faith and patience. My salary was now twenty-five shillings per week. I had six children at home, and my wife was again in the family way, and provisions being dear, I soon got up to the neck in trouble. For the first thing we had to do as soon as we got into the town was to go on credit at the shop for everything we needed. When my wife drew near the time of her delivery, I began to fear how it would be possible to get her the comforts she required at the time of her confinement. I soon found that I had to plunge out of one trouble into another, that is, borrow from one to pay another, so that I soon found I could not tell how to move on. When my wife was taken in labour there was but little in the house, and I was obliged of necessity­ to go to Manchester and leave her very poorly. O what a miserable journey I had to Manchester! All the former mercies of God were lost to my sight, and now the devil told me that it would be a thousand times worse in Rochdale than at the other place, which I had wanted so often to leave. "For here," said he, "the whole town is all upon the watch, hoping that something or other will come to stop the mouth of such a presumptuous Antinomian, and now," says he, "the time is come. Your wife will die; God will stop your mouth; and you and your children must go to the poor­house after all." When I had concluded my business in Manchester, I met a friend just as I was going off home, who asked me how we all were, and how my wife was, and how we were getting along. I told him how things were, and said that I was afraid that the Lord, after all the mercies He had favoured me with, had left me. After a little conversation, he told me that the Lord had not left me, nor ever would leave me; and when we parted he gave me what was needful for our present wants, and off I came home. How powerfully and sweetly did those words come into my soul: "And the angel of the Lord did wondrously, and Manoah and his wife looked on." It was a looking on indeed. I verily believed it was all well with my wife, and that the child was a boy, so I cried out in the way as I went, "His name is Manoah!" What a very different journey had I home! All the way to Manchester the devil roared, but all the way back the Lord smiled. When I arrived at home all was well; my dear wife was safely put to bed, and the child was a boy. How sweetly did I take the dear child up in my arms, and bless it in the Name of the Lord, and said, "His name is Manoah, and may the angel of the Lord do wondrously for him, and his poor soul look on," which God grant may be the case in His own time.

O the lovingkindness of the Lord, how good it is! Surely it is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord! How sweet it was to pass on my way and see the cloud go before me! But it has ever been my lot to have changes, ins and outs, ups and downs. For after a while we got behind at the shop where we dealt for pro­visions. We owed, if I recollect rightly, about seven pounds, and had but two in the house, which we were keeping towards paying the debt; but there was no appearance of getting the rest. But all the rest came in God’s own time and way, and it was truly wonderful and astonishing to my soul. There was one of outr deacons, my right-hand man, who professed such love when I first went into the town that apparently he would have plucked out his eyes and given them to me. After a little time, however, he began to manifest his hatred and enmity against me by trying all he could to harass, perplex and distress me. He goes to the person we traded with, and asked him if I owed him any money. The answer was that I did. So he told him with his soft tongue, that out of kindness he let him know that if he did not get it soon, he never would have it at all. This put my creditor into great fear, so that he sent me a very soft note that he should be glad if I would settle the account, as he was driven for money. O how that made me shake from head to foot! "Now," said the enemy, "what will you do? Here is five pounds to make up before you can pay the seven. You have drawn over your quarter’s money, and you cannot look there. But if you do not pay it immediately, it will be over the whole town, and it will be a matter of joy to the uncircumcised and sorrow and grief to your friends." O how all this sank me down! for though the Lord had done so much for me, I found that I had no faith at my command to trust Him one moment. This was on Saturday; no text, and Lord’s day coming, and I could not get one to strike me all the day. Then I tried to strike one myself, and I struck out many, but they all slipped through my fingers, and off they flew. What a day and night did I pass through. But through the tender mercy of a covenant God I had a good day in the courts of our Lord. The dear Lord led me into the very things that some of His dear children were exercised with, and they went home at night rejoicing it the Lord, and putting no confidence in the flesh. The dear Lord favoured me with a sweet calm, and I felt a hope springing up that He would provide. And I felt a casting of my cares upon Him. "Bless the Lord," my soul whispered, "He has delivered, He does de­liver," and I felt a sweet hope that He would deliver. Before we went to bed, my wife asked me how we were to get through the week. "I have only two shillings," said she, "and we are to have no more at the shop till the old score is paid off, and the two pounds we must not touch; and you know there is but little in the house. How do you think we are to get through the week?"

"Well," said I, "come, never mind it tonight. I am tired; let us go to bed and see what tomorrow will bring forth." I had a very comfortable night’s rest, and, being tired, lay pretty long in the morning. Indeed, I was rather reluctant to go down, for fear of the sub­ject of the two shillings coming up again. Whilst I was pondering about the two shillings, the postman came to the door with a letter, and called out, "One shilling and elevenpence, mistress." "What," cries out my wife, "what do you mean?" "One shilling and elevcn­pence, mistress." I could not help laughing in my room to hear my wife and the postman. Well, thinks I, we don’t need much consultation about laying out the two shillings. We have now a whole penny left. Neither I nor my wife understood the one and elevenpence then. When the postman had shut the door, she comes stamp­ing up the stairs as if she would have stamped them down. Into the room she comes with the letter and the penny, and down she threw them both. "Now," says she, "as you have such a stock of faith, you have a whole penny to go to market with," and down she went, not in the best of tempers. I opened the letter, and there was a two pound note and a one pound note, making three pounds. I ran down stairs with as­tonishment, and showed my wife the three pounds. Poor thing! she was quite overcome with wonder, and she declared that she should never again be frightened at one and elevenpence, and hoped one and elevenpence would soon come again. Just as we were talking it over, my old friend, Thomas Nivin, a Scotchman, whom I had ever found a faithful friend from first to last, came in to know how we were. I showed him the letter and told him of our situation, and that I owed seven pounds at the shop, and that my creditor had sent for the money, and that we had only two pounds towards it until this letter came, and now we have five pounds. The old man rejoiced, and said that he was glad in his heart to see the lovingkindness of a covenant God in such a wonderful and unexpected way. The dear old man said, "I have two pounds laid up at home that I have no present use for." So off he went and brought the two pounds. My old dame dressed herself up in her best gown, and off she goes with the seven pounds and discharges the debt with honour. Now, thinks I, I will go alone into the chapel, and there will I extol the mercy of my wonder-working God, who has wrought this wonderful deliverance for me, one so unworthy. But I am ashamed to write or speak what came into my mind as soon as ever I entered into the chapel. Instead of blessing and praising God for His wonderful deliverance, it darted into my mind that whoever sent it might have sent a five pound note instead of three, and then I should have had two pounds for other things, which would just have come in well. O how I hated myself for these thoughts, and how did my soul struggle, cry and pray to tread these cursed feelings under my feet! I walked to and fro, begging and crying for a. thankful heart; but could no more thank God feelingly for the deliverance than I could make a world. And I began to find my heart as hard as the nether millstone, so that I found that thankfulness was a gift that cometh down from above. And I am confident that thank­fulness is as much the gift of God as ever deliverance is. But, blessed be His dear Name, He can give it when He will; for a few days after this, as I was walk­ing down the street, the dear Lord broke into my soul with such light and love, that He showed me His hand in sending me the deliverance, and with such sweetness, wonder and thanks, that my heart was quite overcome with gratitude. "It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord," and those that are taught of God well know that "every good thing is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no vari­ableness, neither shadow of turning."

Soon after this I had trouble upon trouble at Rochdale, and began to see that I never could stay there long; and I was firmly persuaded that God never in­tended it, for every way kept closing up, till at last my old friend, the Scotchman, said he could not promise to communicate so much to the cause, and, indeed, I wondered he did what he had done for years. Then the deacons told me that it was plain the Lord meant me for some other place, and, if Providence opened a way, they considered I should do right in embracing it. O how my soul did sink down within me. I had eight children; I was over head and ears in debt, and nothing but clouds and darkness within and without. A few days after this I received a letter from Maidstone, in Kent, saying that if I was at liberty, they wished me to come for four or six weeks upon trial. I looked upon this as a wonderful opening in providence, and sent them a letter, fixing the time at which I hoped to be there. I think it was the day after I had sent off my answer that I received another letter, from a few people who met in a room at Trowbridge, in Wiltshire, inviting me for a month upon trial, if I was at liberty. O how I wondered to know what all this could mean! I sent them an answer, saying that I would comply with their request as soon as I had fulfilled my engage­ment at Maidstone. At the time appointed I went to Maidstone, and stayed as long as I had agreed to do. The people gave me a call to be their pastor, and everything was as pleasant to flesh and blood as I could desire; and fully was I determined to accept the call, only I must go to Trowbridge to fulfil my engagement there. But I was as confident in my own mind that I should come and settle at Maidstone as I was in exist­ence; so to Trowbridge I came to spend my month. The room was crowded with people, and God blessed the word abundantly. But I felt determined I would go to Maidstone. The people at Trowbridge gave me a call, and, my time being nearly out, it was necessary to give them an answer. O the begging and crying I had that God would give me a command to go to Maidstone! for to pray to stay at Trowbridge I could not; for I could see nothing but difficulties, trials and miseries at Trowbridge for I plainly saw the toils of a new chapel, and these I dreaded, as knowing what sorrows and miseries Hope Chapel had caused me. O what a night I had the night before I was to settle the business whether I was to go to Maidstone or stop at Trowbridge. I wrestled and prayed, and cried to God until about three in the morning, to let me go to Maidstone; and O how I sunk down when He spoke these words into my heart: "Abide in this city, for I have much people here." "0," cried I, "do, Lord, let me go to Maidstone; do, Lord. Do not be offended with my poor petition; do let me go to Maidstone." But the text sounded again and again, "Abide in this city, for I have much people here;" but still I wanted Him to let me go to Maidstone. At last the dear Lord settled the matter at once by speaking these words to my soul: "If his children forsake My law and walk not in My judgments; if they break My statutes and keep not My commandments; then will I visit their transgressions with a rod, and their iniquity with stripes;" and I could see it as speaking all this to my soul: "You may go to Maidstone; but here is the rod, and you shall have nothing else if you go." I fell down and cried out, "Not my will, but Thine be done." "But," cried I, "How can I get on here? how can I live here, when I come with ten in family and my wife in the family way? How can I possibly live here and the people a poor people?" O how God condescended to settle the matter in my soul. "The cattle upon a thousand hills are Mine. The earth is Mine, and all the gold and silver is Mine. Thy bread shall be given thee, and thy waters shall be sure. Fear thou not-for I am with thee: be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of My righteousness." I cried out, "It’s enough, it’s enough: Amen to it."

Maidstone from that moment was as completely taken away from my mind, and the feeling of any desire to go there to settle, as if I had never heard of such a place. And here I am at Trowbridge, a poor worm, and have proved the Word of the Lord to be truth nearly twenty-two years.

{4|} See note at end.

First Part

I WAS born at Stand, about five miles from Manchester, in October, 1776. My parents being poor, I had but little opportunity of acquiring human learning, though, by the tender mercy of God, I obtained a little reading and writing, a blessing for which I have often felt thankful. My dear mother was, I believe, a vessel prepared unto glory before the mountains were brought forth. This God made manifest when I was about eight years of age, in a manner that has often filled me with surprise. I had frequently been astonished to see my dear mother sighing, groaning and weeping when reading her Bible, but, upon one occasion, I distinctly recollect that a neighbouring woman called in and, observing my mother in tears, asked what was the matter with her that she was in so much trouble. My mother, as soon as she was able to speak, cried out that her poor soul was lost for ever and ever; at which the woman was astonished, and so was! The woman endeavoured to comfort her by telling her that she had been a good wife, mother and neighbour, and, consequently, could have nothing to fear; for if such good people as she were lost, woe to thousands besides! Moreover,"she continued,"you ought not to indulge in such thoughts as these, for who can tell in what they will End?"my poor mother, however, could not drink in such doctrine as this, but Exclaimed,"oh! I am the greatest sinner that ever was upon the earth, and lost I must be for ever! There is no salvation for me. O that I had never been Born!"the woman bade her remember that there is mercy with God for every one that Repenteth."yes,"said my mother,"there is to His own people, but I am not one of them. I am a castaway, lost for ever and Ever!"how astonishing did all this appear to my mind! How did I desire to know who God was, and who were His people! I remember that I cried and, retiring to a private place, said my prayers twice very devoutly, and was as firmly resolved as any Arminian in the world to be good; and I shall become one of His people; and what a happy people must they be who are God’s, and how holy, too; for if my poor mother, who is so good, is not one of them, how very good they must be." I then vowed and promised how good I would be. I found upon examination that I had done many wrong things, such as frequently telling untruths, using bad words, and occasionally stealing a toy from the children with whom I was in the habit of playing. Then I prayed the Lord to forgive me, and vowed never to commit the like again. From this period I went on with many natural convictions, until I arrived at the age of fifteen or sixteen years, when, getting acquainted with many loose companions, I was given up to all manner of wickedness, and so continued until my arrival at that time and place which God had purposed,--not to offer, but to call by grace:

"To change the heart, renew the will, And turn the feet to Zion’s hill."

John Kent See MERCIES Topic 15

I was at that time married, and hearing that a new church, containing a fine organ, was to be opened at Bolton (distant about six miles), I made up my mind to go, and to enjoy myself by spending a few shillings that I had at the various public houses on my way home. These houses had been my delight for years; but, blessed be the dear Lord, He had designed other things. When the day came I went, and was greatly pleased with the appearance of the church. But when the minister entered the reading-desk, I was struck with astonishment at observing that he was the very man whom I had heard preach one sermon in our parish church many years before; a sermon which had alarmed me to that degree that I had made many vows to live a new life, and for several weeks afterwards durst scarcely look or speak for fear of sinning. I had soon, however, broken my vows, and become worse than ever in open wickedness, until God now laid hold of me. When the minister began to read the prayers I thought I had never heard them read in like manner before. But when he got into the pulpit and read his text, it came from his mouth into my heart like a two-edged sword. His text was, "Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." I verily believed that he pointed directly at me; for his eyes appeared to look right through me, and I thought I should have dropped into hell. All my sins and iniquities from a child stared me in the face, and I trembled like a leaf. He began to show what man was by nature, and how far natural men might go in vowing and breaking their vows, in sinning and repenting, until, if grace prevented not, hell proved their awful abode. He showed that for men to vow was merely to mock God and deceive their own souls. My very hair stood on end with the violence of my feelings, and I verily believed that he meant me and none else in the church. Nay, he so particularly described my ungodly life, my vowing and vow-breaking, and so entered into every transaction of it, as if he had been an eyewitness to everything I had done or said, that I looked up to him, wondering whether he were a man or an angel. I thought that he fastened his eyes directly upon me, and pointed personally at me with his finger; and when he had thus cut me up, root and branch, he repeated his text again like thunder in my ears: "Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." O the power with which it entered my soul, like a dagger that cut me through and through. I now saw and felt (what I had never seen or felt before) that I had been mocking God and deceiving my soul all my life long. O how my poor soul heaved up with grief and sorrow, "God be merciful to me, a sinner." "Oh! thought I, He can never show mercy to such a wretch as I, for I have mocked God all these years; and what a man soweth, that shall he also reap." And again the dear man repeated, "God is not mocked." As soon as he had concluded, I crept out of the church as if I had stolen something. Ashamed to look anybody in the face, I hastened through the town, and with difficulty refrained from roaring aloud, like a bear, as I passed through it. I thought that everybody gazed and pointed at me. On my way home, the moment I got into the fields, where no human eye could see and no human ear could hear me, I fell upon my knees, and with all my power of body and soul cried, "God be merciful to me, a sinner." How often I repeated the publican’s prayer I know not; but when I arose from my knees I went on wringing my hands, sobbing and exclaiming, O fool that I have been. How often would God have saved me, but I would not! Now it is all over forever and ever! O the dreadfulness of appearing before that God that will not be mocked is past describing! When I passed a public house I durst not even turn my eyes to look at it, much less enter it to enjoy the pleasure I had anticipated upon leaving home. All the dreadful things I had been guilty of in these wretched houses arose before my poor soul like an army in battle.

"0," cried I, "cursed places, cursed places; ye have ruined my soul for ever! O that I had but kept my vows! O what shall I do? whither can I flee? How can I stand to hear the awful sentence, Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels?"

Upon reaching home, my wife was surprised to see me returned so early. She wondered at my being so quiet, and asked what was the matter. I told her I was very unwell, and did all I could to hide the grief of my soul. But concealment for any length of time was impossible. So great was my misery, and such fast hold had it of me, that at every opportunity I could get by myself I was upon my knees, crying, "God be merciful to me, a sinner!" sometimes repeating the cry until my very breath failed me. She soon, therefore, perceived that something had happened, and charged me with having turned Methodist. I told her that I knew not what I had turned; but this I did know, that I was one of the vilest sinners upon earth, and that if I did not mend my ways, repent, and find mercy, I was as sure of going to hell as that I had been born; and that I would turn anything if I could but thereby save my poor soul; for as yet I could think of no other way of my soul being saved but by mending my life, doing my duty and pleasing God. On the next Lord’s day morning I set off for Bolton, to hear the same minister, whom I afterwards under­stood to be a Mr. Jones. O with what earnestness did I pray and beg all the way that he might tell me what to do that I might he saved! But instead of this, he cut me up to all intents and purposes, and declared that all those who were working for life were under the law, and therefore under its curse. Thus during the whole day I could hear of no encouragement save to God’s own people, and I returned as miserable as ever. O what a journey I had home! sometimes wringing my hands and crying with hitter lamentations, O that I had never been born! O my poor soul, thou art lost for ever! O my place will be with devils and damned souls for ever and ever! How I reached home the Lord only knows, but when I did my wife asked me how I was. "Oh," cried I worse than ever! it is all over with me! there is no hope but for God’s people! She told me I should go no more to hear that man, for he would be sure to drive me mad, and I should be taken to the mad-house, which I indeed, began to fear would really be the case. I therefore thought I would try to put away the thoughts I had of death and eter­nity, and tried to compose my mind as well as I could, consoling myself with the resolution to do the best in my power, and perhaps things would be better than my fears.

I went, therefore, to bed rather more comfortable; but I had not been so long before that text thundered in my heart and in my ears, "The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God." "0," cried my soul, "that is I, that is I I am the wicked wretch who has forgotten God, mocked God, abused God, despised God. O my poor, ruined, lost soul, thou wilt he turned into hell with all the nations that forget God!" O the dreadful feelings I experi­enced! I actually thought that the devil was then coming to fetch me, body and soul together. O how my inmost soul did cry to God that He would spare me but for that night. How often did I promise that I would do all that ever I could to please Him, and entreated with tears that He would not let the devil fetch me that night. And I thought the Lord heard me, for I felt more composed, and shortly dropped asleep. Upon awaking in the morning, what thankfulness I felt to God that He had spared me and that I was not in hell. And who can tell, thought I, but God may yet have mercy on so vile a wretch, who has gone to such lengths in sin against Him and yet been spared to the present moment? I did indeed pray with all my soul and strength that He would forgive all my past sins, and I promised that I would, for the future, live a holy life and do everything in my power to please Him, and honour Him all my days. Indeed, for several days after this I went on pretty comfortable. O the fear I had of sinning for I thought that, if I could but keep from sin, God would, perhaps, pardon me what was past in His own time. And so determined was I to dishonour God no more, that I went into a secret place, where no eye but God’s could see me, and vowed with all my might to leave all the world and turn to the Lord and be His, and called upon Him to be witness of my sincerity. But alas, alas! what is all our fleshly sincerity? The first blast from the devil blows it like chaff before the wind. I had been in the habit for many years of card-playing. What shall I do, thought I, when Satur­day night comes? I am engaged to play a few games at the card-table, but I will not go, and they will not come for me. On Saturday night, however, my partner at the card-table called for me and saying it was near the appointed time, asked me if I was ready? What shall I do thought I? If I refuse they will call me a Methodist, and spread that report all over the parish. I will go just this once, and then tell them I intend to go no more. With this determination I went off. But oh, the misery that came upon me, as if I had been going to the gallows! But the fear of being called religious and a Methodist so overcame me that I entered the house and sat down with the rest at the table. When we each had our cards dealt out, and I had just taken mine, O how my guilt stared me in the face! How did conscience thunder in my ears that I had broken the vows which I had called upon God to wit­ness! and the old text, too, came like a thunder-clap that shook both body and soul: "Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." I was so confused and confounded that I knew not what I was doing, and could no more tell which card to throw down than if I had never seen one in my life. In short, I entirely lost the game, which so enraged my partner that he called me the greatest fool he had ever seen, and the others heartily laughed at me. Poor things! they little knew what I had to grapple with within. I made the best I could of the matter; and, to prevent their knowing the real cause, I said that I was very poorly and must go home. Thus speaking, I took my hat without ceremony, and it being dark, went into the fields, where no human eye could see me. It was a very dark night, and Oh, the awful feelings of my heart! I thought of my vows and my breaking of them; of the dreadful majesty of that God whom I had mocked a thousand times; and of the horrible certainty of fast-approaching death. And then those dreadful words came to my mind. "Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out My hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all My counsel, and would none of My reproof; I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh." {Proverbs 1:24-26} They made my very hair to stand on my head, and my poor soul so to tremble that I feared I was dropping into hell every moment. My very joints were loosened, and what to do, or whither to go, I could not tell. I fell upon my knees and attempted to pray, but that text stopped my mouth in an instant: "The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomi­nation to the Lord." {Proverbs 15:8} "Then," cried I, "it is all over for ever; for I am the vilest wretch either in hell or out of hell; and if God will not hear the prayers of a poor, wicked sinner, it is all over for ever and ever."’ And now all my sins from a child came upon me like an army, with such weight that they actually pressed both body and soul to the very earth, and there I lay for a time with no more strength to stir than a new-born infant, and I believed in my very soul that I was soon to be where hope never comes. But, O the amazing goodness of an abused God! He gave me a little drop of encouragement: "Seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." {Matthew 7:7} "What can that mean?" exclaimed I; "it can never mean that I am to seek and to find." I arose and looked around to see if anybody was near who might have spoken these words; but I could neither see nor hear anybody; yet the words were again repeated in my soul with more power, "Seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened." This so encouraged my poor soul that I cried again to God to have mercy upon me, and told Him that if He would but forgive my sins, I would tell all the world what He had done for me. I then went home, resolved that I would seek night and day for mercy and forgiveness of my sins until I found it.