The Works of the
Rev. John Wesley, M.A.

CHAPTER II.

His Humility.

1.ST. Austin well observes, That poverty of spirit is nothing else but humility: The truly humble knowing themselves to be nothing of themselves but sin and misery, to have nothing, as being at best but manifold receivers of the grace of God; to be able to do nothing, having no power of themselves even to think a good thought, and to deserve nothing but shame and contempt, but misery and punishment. And they are willing, yea desirous, that all others should think of them as they do of themselves.

2. M. de Renty being well convinc’d that this is the foundation of all virtue, and that it was the proper virtue of Jesus Christ, whom he had proposed to himself as his pattern in all things, embraced it with his whole affection, gave himself up to it with all his force, and practised it in its utmost latitude.

3. He had so low an opinion of himself, as it would be a difficult thing to express. The greatness of God, whenever he considered it, humbled him to an immeasurable depth; “A mote, said he, in the sun is very little, but I am far less in the presence of God, I am nothing.” But correcting himself, he added, “Alas I am too much; I am a sinner, an anathema through my crimes.” To the same person he wrote, “Methinks I break myself in pieces before God: that I am spoken of, that I have so much as a name is a strange thing.” I have seen him very often (says one that knew him well) humble himself, as it were to the centre of the earth, while he spoke to me of God; saying, “It was not for such a one as him to speak of him, but that he ought rather to contain himself in silence.”

*4. This exceeding low opinion he had of himself, made him more than once say, with tears in his eyes, “That he was much astonished at the goodness of men in suffering of him, and that he could not enough wonder, why every where they threw not dirt at him, and that all the creatures did not bandy against him.” And he was persuaded, it was much boldness in him to speak, and that men shewed great patience in enduring his conversation.

5. Nor was there any thing which did not serve to increase his humility. He abased himself much in the consideration of the weakness of our nature, of which as he exprest it, “It is important that a man have experience, that he neither forget himself, nor the place he ought to hold: that no flesh may glory in his sight; that being abased and rendered as a thing that is not at all, Jesus Christ may be in him, the life of grace and holiness, waiting for the time of our redemption.”

6. But much was he humbled by the consideration of his past sins; In one of his letters to his director, he writes thus, “my faults are as one great heap, which I feel in myself, obstructing the light from God. I am strangely remiss and ungrateful, I find much in myself to confound and humble me.” In another, “I am sensible of my fault, in mentioning, that I had placed a servant in such a family. I had a motion within me, not to have spoken it; and yet it escaped from me: of which I am exceeding sensible. I should have been more faithful to the Spirit of God.” And in another, “I am as blind (or rather more) in seeing my faults as in other things. Only in general, I have a deep sense of my misery: And I can say, I am not ignorant of my unworthiness, and the deplorable corruption sin hath wrought in me. But lately I mentioned the faults of a certain person to another that knew of them before, to make him understand that he was in a better condition. But my conscience reproached me, that I might have done this without: and I confess I meddled too much in that affair. In sum, I am a straggler from God, and a ground over run with thorns.”

7. He drew yet further matter of humiliation from his rank and condition, and the secular advantages which it gave him. He not only despised, but was ashamed of them; often groaning before the majesty of God, and saying, “He was in the lowest condition according to the Spirit of Jesus Christ, and that he had great confusion to see himself in that estate.” Hence it was, that he solemnly renounced his nobility, and gave it into the hands of our Lord; that he did not love even for any one to call him Monsieur, and that he wholly declined the title of Marquiss (which was proper to his house) and suffered only that of Baron of Renty.

8. Even the gifts and graces of God made him more humble; thus producing their true effect, which is, to abase and elevate the soul both together, to raise it to God, and abase it to itself. In whatever good was done by him he assumed no share at all, but referred all to God the true source. And so in the management of all those talents, he had always his hands clean, without touching what appertaineth to God. Nor would he therefore that any one should consider him in what he said or did, but regard God alone therein. And to one who much desired a visit from him, he wrote thus, “I cannot bear the account you make of my visits and society. Let us look much upon God; let us bind ourselves strictly to Jesus Christ, that we may learn of him fully to renounce ourselves. O, my God, when will it be that we shall eye ourselves no more, when we shall speak no more of ourselves, and when all vanity shall be destroyed!”

9. He likewise esteemed himself most unworthy of any of the grace or favours of God. Of which he says to a friend, “The gifts of God are sometimes so great, that they put us beyond ourselves. As among men if a poor man receives a gift from a prince, according to the grandeur of his own power, he is utterly overwhelmed, and can find no words to express his acknowledgment: So God gives blessings that go beyond our expectations or capacities, and which make us see how unworthy we are, without daring to lift up our eyes; so doth their brightness dazzle, and their greatness astonish us.”

10. The same opinion which he had of himself he was willing, yea desirous that others likewise should have of him. “If I were to wish any thing, said he, it should be, to be much humbled, and to be treated as an off-scouring by men.” And hence he received contempt, when it came, not with patience only, but with joy: of which he gave an evident proof in his first journey to Dijon, whence he thus wrote to his director;

“The reports here spread concerning me are, that I have nothing but artifice and shews of devotion; and that I kept private, out of fear by coming abroad of discovering what I was. Most, I find, even of those from whom I expected quite the contrary, have sollicited against me. And hereby God hath shewn me many favours. I have been with them, and received humiliation with great joy. I have been very wary of opening myself in any thing that might recommend me to them. I have only done in my business what truth required; and for any thing else, I have made it matter of confusion, as I ought. I shall be here, I believe as one excommunicate, as the scape-goat of the old law, driven out into the wilderness for my enormous sins. I desire only to love God, and condemn myself.”

11. Nor was it only in his words but in his actions also, that the humility of his heart appeared. Since his entire dedication of himself to God, he would not suffer a cushion to be carried to church for him; but to be there hid and disregarded, he often mingled himself among mechanics and mean persons. He kept himself always as much as he could at the lower end of the church; and frequently, if the door was shut, said his prayers on the outside of it, that he “might not, as he said, put any to the trouble of opening it to a poor sinner.”

*12. During the war at Paris, he went himself to buy bread for the poor, and carried through the streets as much as his strength would permit. At the same time offering to take into his care the church plate of a monastery, he pressed them to let him carry it to his lodging, (which was two miles thence) and on foot as he was, a very large and weighty piece. And being desired that when he did them the favour to visit them again, he would come in his coach, by reason of the distance; he answered, “he did not love to make use of a coach, he must endeavour to make himself in every thing very little.” He went therefore thither on foot, and returned at five or six, in the shortest days, sometimes in thawing weather. And being told of the pains he took, he replied, “Our Lord took pains in a far other manner.”

13. When he was assisting with his own hand in the repairing of one of his houses, he thus expressed himself:

“Blessed for ever be our great God, by Jesus Christ! I believe I ought to labour in the lowest employments; and the time I spend therein, I count very dear, regarding it as ordered by God. What makes me the more to know it is his order, is this; that from time to time I feel more of retribution from him in one instant, than the patience and humiliation of a sinner could merit in all his life. He so opens himself to me, that I am quite mollified, and melted into tears. My eyes are so full of them, that often I have much ado to keep them in, pierced as I am with love, with reverence, and with acknowledgment of his goodness manifested by his enlightning presence, and of his inexplicable conduct. I see, we are not, by a spirit of pride, under pretence of the glory of God, to dispense with ourselves from labouring in things mean and painful. It was a work very gross and mean for Jesus Christ to converse with men, who had more of rudeness than these stones I deal with. O that I may obtain a part in his obedience, and submission to the orders of God his Father.”

14. Being one day to go to a person of great quality, in a business that much concerned the glory of God, he would not use his coach, tho’ he was to traverse in a manner all Paris, and it poured down rain. One moved, that at least his footman might carry a cloak, which he might take when he came thither. But he yielded not. Only he consented to throw the cloak over him: and in the nobleman’s house he laid aside the wet cloak, and appeared in the other ordinary one of his own.

15. Behold another effect of his humility, of which he writ to his director, December 26, 1646.

“The other day my Lord Chancellor’s lady sent me a packet of letters, in which were some from the king, wherein I was made counsellor of state. I sent her word, that I received what had the mark of the king with all respect. But I most humbly begged she would be pleased to take it in good part, if I did not accept those letters, but desired that the business might sleep without noise. My disposition towards affairs of this nature is, to have nothing at all to do with them. If they come upon me perforce, without my seeking, our Lord will give me strength to bear them.”

16. To the same person on another occasion, he wrote as follows:

“Walking one day through the streets of Paris, in a mean dress, I deeply reflected on that of the apostle, We are become as the filth and off-scowering of the world. I considered how much neatness and new things, even in the most trifling instances, do hurt (if one take not good heed) the simplicity and lowliness of a Christian spirit. And I saw it was a great temptation for any, to think to preserve his outward grandeur, in hopes thereby to have more weight and authority for the service of God. This is a pretence, indeed, that the infirmity of most Christians makes use of in the beginning: but experience draws them at last to Jesus Christ, who was made the lowest of men.”

17. A further proof of his humility, was his carriage to the director. He did nothing that concerned himself, without his conduct: to him he proposed whatever he designed, either by speaking or writing, clearly and punctually, desiring “his advice, his pleasure, and blessing upon it;” and that with the utmost respect and submission: and without reply or disputing, he simply and exactly followed his order. His director having written to him, he answered in these terms; “I beseech you to believe, that although I am most imperfect and a great sinner, yet if you do me the favour to send me a word of what you know to be necessary for me, I hope with God’s help to profit thereby. I pant not after any thing but to find God and Jesus Christ, in simplicity and truth. I pretend to nothing in this world but this; and beside this I desire nothing.”

18. The last effect of his humility we shall mention, was his extreme contempt of the world. He despised all which it could give or promise; all its goods, pleasures, honours, dignities; counted all its allurements as dung and dross, trampled under foot all its glories. He beheld for this end our Lord for his pattern, who, from his very first entrance into it, made an open profession of an absolute contempt of it, “Because he was not of the world.”

*19. To animate a lady with the same spirit, he wrote to her thus: “I wonder how a thing so little as man, drawn out of nothing in his original, infected with his first parent’s sin, and the addition of his own: when he is raised to so high a degree of honour, as to be one with Christ the Son of God; can continue to esteem the world, or make any account of its vanities! Shall the things of the earth waste the little time we have to secure the treasures of heaven; things that will all pass away like a dream: as we see our fathers are gone already, and there is no more remembrance of them: their joys and griefs, their pleasures and pains, are they not all vanished away? And are we not sure they were out of their senses, if they considered any thing but God in their ways? The same will befall us: Every thing else will pass away, and God alone will abide.”

*The same lady, in another letter, he encourages thus: “Courage, all is well! We must die to the world, and search out the hindrances it brings to our perfection. We must live in the world as not living there; possess it, as not possessing it. Let us drive out of our minds the affection to our fine houses; let us ruin the delights of our gardens; let us burn our groves; let us banish these vain images which we have of our children; approving in them what we condemn in ourselves, the show and glitter of the world.”

*I know there is a difference of conditions; but all ought to reject those intailments on noble blood, (as men account them) those principles of aspiring to the highest, and of bearing nothing. Let us take from them this vanity of mind, this stateliness of behaviour. Let us arm them against the pernicious examples of those grandees in story, whose punishments are as eminent in hell, as their presumption was upon earth.

*“My design is not, that you should demolish your walk, or let your gardens run into a wilderness. The ruins I speak of must be made in our own minds, not executed on things insensible. When I say, we must set all on fire, my thoughts were, to follow that admirable spirit of the apostle, who would that we have poverty amidst our riches, and divestment in the midst of our possessions: he means, that our spirit be thoroughly purified and separated from all creatures; because a Christian does himself great wrong, if he entertains in his heart any other inclinations than those of Jesus Christ, who saw all the world without destroying it, but withal without cleaving to it.”

20. It is to bring us to this spirit, that God permits us to meet so many pains and troubles in the world; as when a man sets thorns in a way, to make men take another. “God has his ends, says M. De Renty, in all these contrarieties, viz. that those who are his, should be yet more his, and despise more and more all that is in the world. By these the confusion and vanity of the world are made known to them that are not of it; who being in the spirit of death, wait for nothing more there but death; bringing forth, in the mean while, the fruits of life eternal.”

CHAPTER III.

His self-denial and mortification.

1.AS it is absolutely necessary for every soldier of Christ, who would not so fight as one that beateth the air, to keep the body under, and bring it into subjection; M. de Renty vigorously applied himself to this work. He made but one meal a day for several years; till he was injoined to take more nourishment, to be the better able to undergo the great labours he undertook for his neighbour. He nevertheless eat but little, and always of the worst. A person who observed him at dinner one day, took notice, all he eat was some pears only, and that with so great seriousness and recollection, that it was easy to discern his mind was on God, and not upon his meat.

*2. When one of his friends entertained him one day at Caen, he was much grieved (as he afterwards declared) that Christians should be feasters; adding, It was a torment to be where there was so much superfluity. Hereon his friends took no more thought about his diet, knowing his best entertainment was the meanest fare, and that they could not oblige him more, than by leaving him to his liberty. And often at Paris, when he was so far from home, that he could not return to dinner, he would step into a baker’s shop, and after a piece of bread and a draught of water, chearfully go on with his business.

3. Nor did he deny himself only with regard to his taste, but to all his other senses also. When he went into the country, and came in the evening to his inn, after having dismissed his servants, he either passed the night in a chair, or lay down in his cloaths and boots, which was his custom till death. And when at Amiens, a lady, in honour of his virtue and quality, had prepared him a rich bed in a stately chamber, he made no use of it, but laid him down upon a bench, and there slept till morning.

4. Being come to ♦Pontois in winter, and lodging at the Carmelite Nuns, he told them not to make a fire, or prepare a bed. He then went to visit the prisoners (which he never forgot) and at his return, about nine in the evening, finding them going to prayers, without taking any thing to eat, he went into the church with them, where he continued till eleven. And indeed at every time and every place, on every occasion, even in the slightest and meanest things, he kept a watchful eye over himself, that he might in no instance fulfil the desires of the flesh, but daily inure himself to endure hardship.

*5. A short description of his mortification, or deadness to the world, we have in his own words. “Since the time I gave up my liberty to God, I was given to understand, to what a state the soul is brought, which is capable of union with him. I saw my soul reduced into a small point, contracted and shrunk up to nothing. At the same time I beheld myself as encompassed with whatsoever the world loves, and as it were, a hand removing all this far from me, and plunging it into the ocean. First, I saw removed all outward things, kingdoms, great offices, stately buildings, rich and elegant furniture, gold and silver, recreations, pleasures: all which hinder the soul in her way to God, of which therefore it is his pleasure she be divested, that she may arrive at that death which will bring her into the possession of real life. Secondly, all inward things, which are of a more delicate and precious nature, as learning, reason, strength of memory and understanding; to which likewise we are in a manner dead, if we are alive to God. And I perceived that we must come like little infants, simple and innocent, separated not only from evil, but even from our ordinary manner of doing what is good. We are to undertake what things the divine providence presents to us, by making our way by God to them, rather than by them to God. A truly mortified soul sees nothing but God: not so much (if I may so speak) as the things she does, of which nothing stays in her, neither choice, nor joy, nor sorrow, for their greatness, or for their littleness, for good or bad success; but only the good pleasure and order of God, which ruleth in all things, and which in all things contents the soul that adheres to him, and not to the vicissitude of affairs, and is therefore constantly even, always the same in the midst of all changes.”

6. As to the particulars of M. de Renty’s mortification, in the first place, he was dead to riches. “I acknowledge before God (says he in a letter to his director) his great mercy to me thro’ his Son, in freeing me from the things of this world, and my constant thoughts are, that if his order did not oblige me to do otherwise, I would quit all that I have.” And to another, “All that can be imagined in this world is of small concern, though it were the losing of all our goods. This poor ant-hill is not worth a serious thought. Had we but a little faith and a little love, how happy should we esteem ourselves in giving away all, to attend on God only.”

*7. Thus entirely, even in the possession of riches, was his heart engaged from them. And when the better part of his estate was in danger of being lost, he said, without the least emotion, “Since God hath committed this estate to me, I will do what shall behove me to preserve it, and then ’tis all one to me what follows.” Yea, he often expressed a kind of holy envy toward the poor, and a high esteem of their condition, both as most advantageous for Christian perfection, and because Christ himself had lived and died therein. “I avow to you, (says he to a friend) the more of riches come to me, the more do I discover of the malignity affixed to them. My heart is strongly inclined to follow him who was the most poor and depressed among all his followers. But that I know I may not put myself into that estate, I should pant after it very much. What I infer from hence is this, that not knowing the counsels of God, I cannot tell how he will dispose of me for the future: but I offer myself up to whatsoever shall please him, knowing that with him I can do all things.”

8. This inward temper appeared in a thousand outward effects. He parted with several books, because richly bound: used no gloves in season; wore no cloaths, but plain and close made; carried no silver about him, but for works of charity. I have seen him at first in his coach, with a page and footman; afterward, in his coach with a footman, without a page; then with his footman only, without his coach; and in fine, without either.

9. And as he was dead to riches, and to all the things of the world, so he was, secondly, to the persons in it: having no affection for any, but what was grounded upon, and subordinate to the love of God. This was particularly observable, with regard to those who were engaged to him by one of the tenderest ties, who depended upon him, and used his counsel for the conduct of their souls. *To one of these he wrote, “I cannot hear without trouble the great matter you make of my conversation: let us breathe after God, and learn from Jesus Christ an entire renunciation of our own affections.” And in another letter thus: “Jesus Christ is ever the same, and his grace is continually advancing; and as long as I am his, I shall be yours for his sake. He is not wont to part souls by the separation of bodies: since his custom is, only to take away what might be a hindrance to the perfect life of the spirit.”

*10. To a friend who had lost his director he wrote thus: “His remove would doubtless be a great loss to you and all the country, if the providence of God did not rather sanctify and establish, than destroy; but by removing these visible supports, he often settles us more firmly in our adherence to him through Christ, where we find all power, and who is so near that he is even in the midst of us; and when our dependence upon creatures is cut off by his providence, we experimentally find, that we are not left destitute, but that supply is made either by the spirit which dwelleth in us, or by his ministers that remain; who the fewer they are, the more is the grace we receive by them multiplied. Nor should we be further engaged to those who assist us in our spiritual conduct, than as to God’s instruments, whose help it is his will we should make use of, but no longer than he pleaseth; and when it is his will to take them from us by death, or otherwise, we ought not to lose our courage, but with submission and gratitude resign all to him, who will again provide for us as seemeth him best.”

11. He was, Thirdly, dead to all desire of every kind. Being one day asked, “How he could be so quiet in such circumstances,” he answered, “That through God’s mercy, he was indifferent to all things, and that he no longer felt either fear or desire of any thing.” And writing to his director, he says, “For the future I could wish, if there be any thing left for me to wish, that I had nothing left me but my God: This is the rich treasure of the heart, the sure replenishment of the soul.”

12. He had no eager desire even of sensible consolations; touching which, he expressed himself thus, “Dryness, and other troubles of spirit, are to be borne with upon any terms, and we must give up ourselves as forlorn creatures, throwing ourselves wholly upon God.” And again, “however dry your soul may be, when you endeavour to place it in a state of reverence and affiance in the presence of God, persevere still as much as you can, and keep yourself shut up in the cabinet of your heart; suffer not the noise of all those tempests without; be still, and mind them not. They have all their use; they serve to purge the soul, and dispose it for the operation of God upon it. Let then distractions, and all sorts of imaginations assault you, as it pleaseth God, but let them not hinder you from that holy exercise; diverting (as you are able) your mind from them, continue your sacrifice, with full assurance you shall not wait long, before your Lord come.” And when he found himself for a time, in such a condition, he would cry out aloud, “I am thine, O God, in spite of all these things, and so I will continue without reserve for ever.” And sometimes he would write with his finger upon the ground, “I am content with every thing that proceeds from the will of God: I ask nothing else but what he appoints for me; I will never trouble myself to be freed from dryness; my resolution is, to bless God at all times.”

*13. Lastly, He was dead to his own will, which he had perfectly resigned, in conformity to the will of God. “Far be it from me, saith he in one of his letters, to act in this by my own spirit; I would have it wholly annihilated, that it might know no other language but nothing, and continually nothing; to follow in all the footsteps of the divine will, according to its measure and manner.” In another thus: “My Saviour hath graciously brought me to such a state of indifferency for every thing that I could be well contented, all my life, to be fix’d to my bed, a paralytic, not able to stir, without making any reflection on any service I might render to my neighbour, or that I could render him no more: all things according to the will of God, being equal to me.” And in a third: “Of late I have been busied in such employments as were sufficient to have overwhelmed so weak a spirit as mine, had it not been absolutely resigned to the will of God. It is on him alone I rest, having renounced myself. I adore the decrees of his sacred will, who holdeth all things in his own hands, to keep us subject unto him by his justice, and to sanctify us by his love: happy, if we have the hearts of children, the spirit of Christ Jesus, to sigh after him, and cry continually, Abba Father.”

CHAPTER V.

His faith.

1.MR. de Renty studied with a particular care a solid foundation in this virtue, knowing how all other virtues depend upon it, as on their root, their rule and measure. And he possessed it in so high a degree, that he was more assured of the presence of God, and the truth of the mysteries of Christianity, than of the shining of the sun. He truly lived by faith: this was the path wherein he walked, working all by the spirit thereof. He beheld things not with his bodily eyes, but with those that pierced deeper. Considering them not according to their present condition, or the order of nature; but according to their future and eternal, their relation to grace and glory; regarding nothing but as it was, or might be a means of his own or others salvation.

2. Being fortified by this faith, he was wont to say, he felt no difficulty at all, when (in his younger years) he was in a state of dryness, wholly deprived of sensible comforts. To which purpose he writes in one of his letters thus; “We seldom meet with persons addicted to prayer, that behave themselves well under inward trials. They have no patience to wait for comfort. They fret themselves, and hurry this way and that, as if by their own means they could procure it, seeking for another support than that of faith, which alone should suffice any spiritual man. For the just should live by faith, and on that foundation rest, in expectation of our Saviour, with patience; knowing these joys are but supplements to the littleness, and cordials for the faintings of our faith.”

3. Animated by this spirit, he relied not on any thing that came to him in an extraordinary way; resting neither on visions, miracles, revelations, nor inward motions, but solely on a pure and naked faith, to carry him to God.

4. He knew our perfection consists in nothing else, but the renewal of our soul in faith, hope, and charity: in performing to God the sacrifices of a lively faith, a perfect hope, and fervent charity. To cultivate and adorn his soul with these, was therefore his constant care; to unite it more and more intimately with God, through faith working by love, and to give himself up with all his strength to this hidden and divine life.

5. Some years before his death, he was peculiarly employed in the contemplation of the blessed Trinity. Wherefore he gave this account to his spiritual guide; *“I carry about with me ordinarily an experimental verify, and a plenitude of the presence of the Holy Trinity.” And again, “I possess the sacred Trinity with a plenitude of truth and clearness; and this in so pure and vigorous a manner, that my outward employment creates me no diversion at all.” And another time he writ thus; “Jesus Christ worketh the experience of his kingdom in my heart, and I find him there my Lord and my Master, and myself wholly his. I discover now a greater enlargement of my heart, but such as I am not able to express; only thus, it is a simple but most real sight of the Trinity, continually accompanied with praising, blessing, and offering all homage thereto.”

CHAPTER VI.

His Hope.

1.A STRONG faith cannot but produce a firm hope and charity. A true belief in God, what he is in himself, and what he is to us, will work a strong affiance in him, and ardent charity towards him; as appeared in M. de Renty, who being grounded in faith, had also an undaunted hope, and inflamed affections.

2. The experience of the power and mercy of God, and faith in the infinite merits of our Redeemer, were the two pillars on which he built his hope: and resting on these, he hoped all things. He used to say, that when he looked at himself, there was nothing so little wherein he apprehended not difficulty. But when he looked upon God, he could think nothing difficult, much less impossible.

3. Accordingly in all affairs, he relied not upon his own prudence, conduct, care, or any human strength or wisdom, but on God alone, saying, “When we have done our duty with great diffidence in ourselves, we ought to attend wholly on God, and wait his time.” And thus he writ to a friend, “As for my children, I leave them in the hands of the holy Jesus, without determining any thing concerning them, not knowing what would befall to-morrow. He giveth me great confidence in his protection, which renders me altogether blind, without wishing any thing, but being ready for his will in every thing.”

4. Guarded with his perfect confidence, he feared nothing, but remained firm and resolute against all encounters. He walked securely in all places, at all times, in the streets, in the fields, by day and by night; travelling through woods and forests, reputed dangerous, and frequented by robbers, without any other defence than his trust in God. A friend told him one day, he was afraid to walk in the evening in the streets of Paris without a sword, and desired his advice; who told him, he had left off wearing a sword a long time, and advised him, after he had commended the business to God by prayer, to trust in his protection; assuring himself, that his protection over us, is according to our reliance upon him.”

5. One day a scaffold on which he stood with his workmen fell down, and hurt several of them: but it moved not him; his spirit remained in the same evenness as if nothing had happened; being settled on him in whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.

6. Those words were found in one of his letters to his director. “My soul being armed with confidence and love, fears neither the devil nor hell, nor all the stratagems of man. Neither think I at all on heaven or earth, but only how to fulfil the will of God in every thing.”

CHAPTER VII.

His love of God.

1.THE sentiments M. De Renty had of the love of God, he thus exprest in a letter to his director; “In all I read in the scripture, I neither understand nor find any thing but this Love. The very end of the commandment is love, out of a sincere heart. And this is acquired by faith in Christ Jesus, as the apostle observes in the following words. Faith uniteth us to him, whereby we sacrifice our souls and bodies, thro’ his spirit; which conducteth us to the compleat end of the law, to deliver us up to God and bring him down to us in charity, and a gracious inexplicable union; to whom be praise for ever! Amen!”

2. Writing to another, he says, “I thank our Lord, who hath disposed you to a perfect self-denial. This is the way to love; and our love of God is shewn, not so much in receiving gifts and graces from him, as in forgetting ourselves, in renouncing all things, and suffering constantly and courageously for him.”

3. So inflamed was M. De Renty with this love, that all his thoughts, words and works, were the fruits of it. All his virtues drew their original from this: it was the beginning, and motive, and end of all. “I cannot conceal from you, said he to a friend, that I have a fire in my heart, which burns and consumes without ceasing.” And this divine fire was so ardent in his soul, that the flames thereof often burst forth into his exterior; and he hath owned, that whenever he pronounced the name of God, he tasted such a sweetness as could not be exprest.

4. One of his friends assures us, “he has often seen him so inflamed with love, that he appeared like one beside himself: and that he has told him, when these transports were upon him, he was ready to cast himself into the fire, to testify his love to God.” And one of his letters he concludes thus: “I must now hold my peace; yet when I cease to speak, the fire within that consumes me will not let me rest. Let us burn then, and burn wholly and in every part for God. Since we have no being but by him, why do we not live to him? I speak it aloud and it would be my crown of glory, to seal it with my blood.”

*5. To another he writes thus: “I know not what your intent was, in writing those words, ‘My God and my all!’ Only you incite me thereby to return the same to you and to all creatures, ‘My God and my all! My God and my all! My God and my all!’ Is your heart full of it, and think you it possible I should be silent on such an invitation! Be it known to you, that he is my God and my all; and if you doubt of it, I shall speak it a hundred times over. I shall add no more, for any thing else is superfluous to him that is truly penetrated with ‘My God and my all’.”

*6. This love of God wrought in him an incredible zeal for his honour, which he thus expresses to his director; “One day being transported with an earnest desire to be all devoted to God, and all consumed for him, I offered up to him all I could, yea, and all I could not. I would willingly, if they had been mine, have made a deed of gift to him of heaven and earth: and in another way, I would gladly have been the lowest of all mankind. Yea, and if supported by his grace, I could have been content, to advance his glory, to have suffered the pains of the damn’d. In this disposition of a calm zeal, there is no sort of martyrdom, no degree of greatness or littleness, honour or dishonour, that passed not through my soul, and that I would not readily have embraced for the advancement of his glory. It is impossible to express one circumstance of what I felt. All I could do was, to give up my liberty to God, writing the deed in paper and signing it with my blood.”

7. See here the zeal of a man all on fire with the love of God! And the surest proof of love, conformity to his will. This intimate union of his will with God’s, the object and end of all his actions, was indeed one of his singular graces, as it is the sum of all perfection. He writ thus to one concerning the Countess of Chatres, with whom he had the strictest friendship; “I must own, that during my absence from her, my heart was tenderly sensible of her pain. But my desire submits to the will of God, and when that is signified, he gives me grace to obey. I was not at Paris, but at Citry, when she departed; I was sent for post but came two hours too late. Entering the town, I soon heard the news of her death. Presently I fixt myself to the will of God; whereupon I found no more alteration in my soul, than if she had been alive. I see his order in this, that I assisted her not at her death, and doubt not but he permitted it for her advantage.”

8. Another time he writ thus: “I have these three weeks had a fever, with a defluxion, and an extreme weakness. My frame of mind during this condition, has been a simple adherence to the will of God. I have a heart willing and ready to receive any afflictions that can befall me. I desire whatever is decreed from above, and beg it with all my heart.”

9. In the year 1641, one of his children, whom he tenderly loved died. When the news was brought him, he spoke not one word, nor, shewed the least sign of disturbance: his affection to the child yielding to his absolute conformity with the will of God.

10. At the end of the year 1643, his lady fell desperately sick, so that she was given over by her physicians, and left speechless and without sense. This affected him in the most sensible manner; and he broke out into these words:

“I cannot deny but my nature is deeply affected with the sense of so great a loss. Yet my spirit is filled with so wonderful a joy, to see myself in such a state, as to give up, and sacrifice to my God, a thing so dear to me, that if decency did not forbid it, I would give some open testimony of my readiness thereto.” Hereby he evidenced the will of God to be so absolutely his, that he not only willed whatever God willed, but also willed it as God doth, with pleasure and satisfaction. But it pleased God to restore his lady to her health, with respect (as we may believe) to the carriage of his faithful servant.

11. From this perfect subordination to the will of God, sprung his admirable tranquillity. From this fountain flowed those rivers of peace which he possessed in so great perfection, that on the most sudden surprisals, his spirit was not altered, nor put into any disorder. So that he could say from the abundance of his heart, “I comprehend not that thing you call mortification. He who finds no resistance in his spirit to any thing, is not capable of it. Whoso willeth whatsoever God willeth, is pleased, whatsoever happens.”

12. With this Love of God was joined so deep a reverence of him, as often cast him into trembling. And this unspeakable respect unto God’s greatness caused him often to walk in the fields bare-headed, even in rain, or the heat of the sun: and being asked by a friend, what it was that kept him in that constant awe, and how he attained that wonderful reverence he bore to God at all times, in all places, in all employments, he answered, “The sight of his glorious majesty, which continually seems present by me, keeps me in exceeding awe, with a deep sense of his greatness and my own vileness. A mote in the sun is little, but I am far less in the ♦presence of God.”

*13. And sure it is, that this deep sense of his own vileness, before the majesty of God, well becomes not only the greatest of sinners, but the holiest of men upon earth. He that from a valley beholds the sun when it rises, and appears on the point of a high mountain, may think him that stands above to be near it, and almost able to reach it with his hand. But the same man notwithstanding beholds it at a vast distance above his head. And though in reality, he is nearer than the other that stands in the valley, yet the proportion is so small as scarce deserves to be named, in respect to the total distance.

14. This reverence of God occasioned in him a great reverence likewise to whatsoever was devoted to him: as first to all holy places; at his entrance into a church, his demeanor was highly modest and serious. He never sat down there. He would remain in it as long as possibly he could; sometimes seven or eight hours together. If any person spoke to him in church, his answer was short; if a longer was required, he went out and gave it.

15. He had great respect, secondly, to holy persons, especially to priests, whom he highly honoured for their work sake. Whenever he met them, he saluted them with profound humility, and in his travels would alight off his horse to do it. When they visited him, he entertained them with great respect; at their going, waiting on them to the gate: And if any dined at his table, he gave them the upper hand, which civility he observed to his own chaplain.

16. And as he had this reverence for them, so had he an earnest desire, that they might live according to the dignity of their calling. When he saw any that did not, he profest his heart melted into sorrow for them, and that he prostrated himself before our Saviour, and begged with tears some apostolical spirits. He often said, “Give us, O Lord, our poor fishermen, men, simple in appearance, and vile in the eyes of men; but great and holy within, and fit to convert souls by their sanctity, prayers, and restless labours!” And herein I discover a great mistake ordinary in the world, that outward greatness and pomp is the way to keep up men’s credit, and make them more capable of doing good to their neighbours. O, no! It is grace that hath power upon the souls, and an holy and humble life that gaineth hearts!

CHAPTER VIII.

His Love of man.

SECTION I.

Of his love to man in general.

1.THE grand exercise of M. de Renty, was to apply and unite himself to our Saviour, and from that union and example to derive all his virtues and good works. To mould himself after him was his general course, both in his inward tempers and outward behaviour. He never took his eye off of this divine copy, but endeavoured to draw every line exactly, to pencil his true likeness, and make him his native and perfect original.

2. This was the scope of all his designs and cares, and particularly that of his charity to his neighbour; for which he propounded our Saviour as his grand exemplar, weighing the affection he shewed for men; marking what he had done, and what he had suffered for them, how he sought after, and conversed with them; how he instructed, comforted, and encouraged them, sometimes reproving, sometimes bearing with their infirmities; at all times carrying them in his bosom, yea, in the most intimate inclosure of his heart.

3. He well weighed what Christ had delivered concerning this virtue: that he had established it as the perfection of his law; that he had termed this command peculiarly his own; that he had expressly and solemnly bequeathed it to his followers, and enforced the execution of it upon them by all the strongest and most endearing ties; that he had made this virtue the distinctive character of those who were in reality his disciples; and that he had charged us to love our neighbour, according to the model, measure, and fashion that he had loved us. And accordingly he determined, as far as he could, to love his neighbour with the bent and spirit of his master. “I sigh (said he) after my Saviour Jesus, desiring to imitate and follow him whither he pleaseth. I beseech you, by your prayers, obtain for me his spirit, to be my life, my whole life. Sigh and groan for me after my God, that I may be wholly for him, in his Son, that I may follow him, and not live but by his Spirit.”

4. Agreeably to this he endeavoured, in all the commerce he had with men, to unite himself most intimately to our Saviour, giving himself up as an instrument to be guided by his hand in the helping of others, beseeching him to breathe upon him his spirit of love, recommended so much in his word, but more in his actions, and to inflame him with this sacred fire which he hath kindled in his church, that he might be wholly consumed with it. He consulted him in all his doubts concerning it, begging him to inspire what, and how, and when, he should speak and act for the good of his neighbour; and that in him and by him it might all be done.

*5. He looked upon men not according to their natural qualities, their beauty, nobility, riches, or worldly distinctions, but according to their more noble relations, and those common to all, viz. As creatures divine, the lively images of God, formed to praise and love him to all eternity; as purpled in the blood of Jesus, brothers and co-heirs with him, his inheritance bought with the price of his life, and a thousand pangs, and who therefore must be infinitely dear unto him, and most tenderly beloved of him.

*In this capacity it was that he beheld men, and applied to their necessities. And hereby as he was highly useful to his neighbour, so he did not prejudice but greatly advantage himself. He looked upon God and Christ in every man. He considered, it was they that demanded succour of him. And while he was performing with all his might whatever was necessary for the soul and body of the least of his brethren believed verily it was God and Christ to whom he rendered that assistance. And the same thought should all make use of, who would benefit their neighbour, without prejudice to themselves, otherwise, a man shall sooner lose his own soul, than lead another to God.

7. The charity of this man of God, built on these foundations, was so enlarged, that it seemed to have no bounds; in that he loved not only all Christians, but all men, without excepting any. Thy commandment, says David, is exceeding broad; the same dimensions had his charity; embracing the present and absent, domestics and strangers, friends and enemies, good and bad; esteeming all according to their degree, speaking (as he could) well of all, doing good to all, and ill to none.

8. There was not any considerable good work of a public nature, done at Paris, or within a great distance of it, wherein he had not a great share. There was no undertaking there, tending to the honour of God or good of men, of which he was not either the author, or promoter, or finisher, and very often all these together. He was one at all the meetings of piety; and of many the very soul. He kept correspondence throughout the whole kingdom, concerning works of charity, receiving letters from all parts, desiring his advice in all difficulties that occurred, in the erecting or perfecting hospitals, seminaries of religion, and fraternities of virtuous persons, associating together for the better applying themselves to their own and others salvation, and the managing all sorts of good works.

9. From Caen one writes of him thus: “M. de Renty was our support and refuge in the execution of all our designs, relating to the service of God, the saving of souls, and the relief of the poor and distressed. To him we continually wrote, and from him we received counsel and succour on all occasions. Nor have we met with any since his death to whom we could have the like recourse in the things of God.” Another from Dijon writes thus: “We cannot but acknowledge the great benefit this province has received from M. de Renty. Wherever he came he hath wonderfully advanced all works of piety. We may truly say, that his days were filled with the fulness of God. Nor do we believe he lost one minute of time, in which he did not either speak or act something for his service.”

10. He applied himself to the necessities of the English, the Irish, the captives in Barbary, and of the missions into the Levant; took great pains for the support of the hospital at Marseilles; laboured much for the relief of galley-slaves, and contributed much to the advancing the affairs of New France in America. He had a design likewise to purge all trades and manufactures from the corruptions which had grown upon them, so that men might live upon them like Christians; which thing he begun and perfected in two of them.

11. The scripture he most studied, next the life of our blessed Saviour, to qualify himself for all good works, was St. Paul’s description of charity, in the 13th chapter of his first epistle to the Corinthians. And whosoever is exercised in the virtues there described, will not run in vain, nor labour in vain. *Indeed the more any one is animated with this spirit, the more shall he advance holiness in others. Yea, though his words be few and ordinary. For our words do not derive their force from the mouth that speaks, but from the disposition of the heart, and the power of the spirit that dwells there.

12. To qualify himself to be more extensively useful to his neighbour M. de Renty, to the natural abilities God had given him, and to the learning he had acquired in his youth, had by his industry added several smaller parts of knowledge: and that not only for his own use, but to teach them to others, whereby to help themselves. Yea, he abased himself to learn the meanest skill, which might be any way useful to his neighbour. One day in Paris he carried a friend with him to a poor man, who got his living by making wicker-baskets. He there finished a basket which he had begun some days before, with design as soon as he had learned it, to teach some poor people in the country to make them, to help to get their living. He then left the basket with the poor man, and a piece of money for teaching him.

13. Indeed he took upon him all shapes, transformed himself into all figures, condescended to all things for the good of his neighbour: all his thoughts, words and actions, being wholly cast in the mould of charity: *Which made him say one day, “Methinks my soul is all charity, and I am not able to express with what ardour and strange expansion my heart is renewed in the divine life of my Saviour, burning in love to all mankind.”

SECTION II.

His charity to the poor.

*1.WITH regard to the poor, M. de Renty’s thoughts stayed not on their habit or outward appearance; but passing further, he beheld under these, with the eye of faith, Jesus Christ present and dwelling in them. And as he burned with an ardent affection to our Lord, so he loved them tenderly, succoured them with all his might, and left nothing unattempted for their sakes. And with these eyes, not those of nature, must every one behold the poor, that will love them indeed, and have bowels of compassion for them.

2. From the year 1641, he invited to dinner two poor men twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. But increase of business obliged him five or six years after to reduce it to one day, commonly Thursday; when he invited three; and willing to join spiritual alms to corporal, he sought out such as seemed most to need instruction. To this end, while at Paris, after his morning devotions, he went to St. Anthony’s gate, and took such as were newly arrived, whom courteously saluting, he brought home (in winter to the fire) made them sit down, and with a cordial affection, which appeared in his whole behaviour, instructed them in the chief points of Christianity. While they sat at table, he served them himself, setting before them with his own hands the dishes brought in by his servants and children. After dinner, he waited on them himself to the gate, and dismissed them with an alms. This he continued to his death, and when he could not do it in person, his lady did the same to so many poor women.

3. Besides many other charities at his own house, he endeavoured the general relief of all the poor in Paris, and the parts adjacent; busied himself to understand their wants, studied ways of redress, and carefully pursued them. What he could not accomplish himself, he commended to others, spake for them, begged for them, bought necessaries for them; laboured to establish settled courses of living for men and children that were destitute, and when he could not at present provide for them abroad, maintained them at his own house till he could.

4. He was the first that motioned some relief for the poor English, driven by persecution out their own country. He engaged persons of quality in the purchasing of lands for their subsistence. When it was done, himself undertook the charge of distributing one part of this charity. This he performed, monthly, going to them a foot, and commonly alone entering their chamber, he saluted them with all tenderness and respect, and gave them their allowance wrapt up in a paper.

*5. In all his visits to the poor, after a general survey of their wants, he examined in particular as well their spiritual as bodily necessities; and endeavoured in the first place to mark their inclinations, their passions, their ill habits; what vices were predominant in them, and what were their chief infirmities: that like a prudent physician he might apply fit remedies, and teach them how to make the true use of their poverty.

6. As to their temporal necessities, he considered the capacity, industry, trade or employment of each: for tradesmen, he considered what tools or materials were necessary to set them to work. These he provided, either redeeming their own, or buying new. He then gave them provisions for two or three days, and provided them work not only for themselves, but also for their wives and children. Afterwards he bought some of their work, which he bestowed in alms upon others, and took orders for the quick sale of the rest, coming to them from time ♦to time to see if all went well, and encourage them to take pains.

7. To these we may add, his charity to poor prisoners, whom he visited, comforted, and relieved, and when he found it expedient for them, (which he always first considered) used all means for their enlargement.

8. There was in Low-Normandy, one who had been a prisoner for several years, and tho’ innocent, was in great extremity. Many had endeavoured his release but without success, because of a powerful adversary. The thing being commended to M. de Renty, after a just information of the case, he committed the prosecution of it to his own advocate, made a report of it to the council, and went frequently in person to sollicit it.

9. But notwithstanding, perceiving the poor man’s cause to hang long, he changed his purpose, and writ to his adversary, offering, if the business might be referred to him, to take a journey into Normandy immediately. When he came to the town, he went directly to the prison, and after an exhortation to the prisoners, seconded by his alms, he told the poor man his design, and exhorted him to pray to God for a blessing on his endeavours, and to rest in hope that by some means or other he should shortly be delivered.

10. He then went to the other’s house; whence he returned to the prison for information on some difficulties that occurred. Finding all the prisoners together at their usual devotions, he waited till they had done. Having then received information, he went back to the other, with whom he came to such an agreement, that this poor man, after a world of misery, during nine years imprisonment, was at length set at liberty. He maintained him eight days at his own house, advising and exhorting him every evening: and at his departure persuaded him to go and see his (former) adversary; whom he now found as tractable and friendly, as before he had been severe.

SECTION IV.

His zeal for the salvation of his neighbour.

1.M. de Renty being continually inflamed with the love of God, incessantly sought always, and used all means to make him more known and loved by all men, both here and eternally. And this his zeal had no bounds; it extended not only to all France, but to all the world; insomuch that he said to an intimate friend, “I am ready to serve all men, not excepting one, and to lay down my life for any one.” He earnestly desired to enlighten with the knowledge of God, and inflame with his love, the whole world; of which Paris being as it were an epitome, he went through all the quarters and streets of that vast city, searching out what he could remove or bring in, for the glory of God, and salvation of souls. And the same spirit which moved him hereto, blest his endeavours to rectify what was amiss, and to strengthen what was right. *This he did in so many several ways, as a man would think it impossible: but what cannot a man do that is zealous, disinterested, and full of God?

2. He performed what possibly he could in his own person, not sparing any pains, nor losing one moment: and where his power fell short, he engaged others: and in all places he laboured, as much as in him lay, to induce such as desired to follow Christ, to join together, and assist one another in working out both their own and their neighbour’s salvation. Many such societies he established at Caen, at ♦Amiens, at Dijon, and in several parts of Burgundy; whose endeavours being animated by a true zeal for God, were blessed with unexpected success.

3. To arm one who was thus engaged, against the difficulties he met with, he writ to him thus:

“I am very sensible of the present storms that you endure; though there is no reason why men should alarm you thus, seeing they have no cause of reproach from your design, nor have you done any thing against the gospel: yet I do not wonder at these crosses. ’Tis sufficient to know that you desire to follow Jesus Christ: therefore you must reckon contradiction to be your portion in these days of your flesh. Only be firm in your confidence in our Lord, suffering none of these storms to trouble you, or to obscure that light which hath moved you to, and guarded you in this business. God deliver you from the reasonings of flesh and blood, which at such times are apt to multiply upon us: be assured, that if you hearken not to them, God will manifest himself unto you; he will comfort and fortify you in faith, and in experience of the gift of his holy Spirit.”

4. To another he writ thus: “Blessed for ever be the Holy Jesus, for the good beginning of those you mention. If the other had a little more courage to break her fetters, it would be a great step: and surely there needs not so much deliberation to give up ourselves to him, although he be to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness. Not that God hath any need of our good parts or excellent qualities, who commonly confounds the wisdom of the wise, by little things which he chuseth. Blessed be that littleness which is accounted weakness, and yet overthroweth all the power and prudence of the world.”

*5. We mentioned before his endeavour to reform trades from the abuses and corruptions which, in process of time, they had contracted, and to sanctify them, that some at least in each might live like the primitive Christians, in common; deducting from their flock only their necessary maintenance, and bestowing the rest on the poor. And, at length, he in part effected it; so that there are now two companies in Paris, one of taylors, the other of shoemakers, and of these in several quarters of the city, (and the like there are at Thoulouse) who live in community; rising, eating, working and praying together morning and evening: calling each other brothers, and living together in the strictest unity and concord.

6. Passing one day by the hospital of St. Gervase, and hearing it was devoted to the lodging of poor travellers, he desired leave of the superior to instruct them, in the evening when they ♦were met together. And this he did from that time, every night, coming thither on foot, and commonly alone, summer and winter. After instructing them, he joined with them in prayer, which he concluded with his alms. And this he continued many years, till some Churchmen, moved by his example, undertook that work, which they continue to this day.

*7. His tenderness of heart to these poor people was exceeding great, joined with such humility as cannot easily be expressed. When he met any one at the hospital, he saluted him with great respect, put him before him, and talked with him bare-headed. If any kneeled to him, he did the like to them, and continued on his knees till they rose first. One of them observing him diligently, and knowing him to be the Lord of the place where he himself lived, was deeply affected at the sight, and came and fell at his feet: M. de Renty did the like to him, and continued in that posture a long time, resolving not to rise before the poor man.

*8. Going one day to visit the holy place of Monmatre, after his prayers said in the church, he retired into a desolate part of the mountain, near a little spring. There he kneeled down to prayer, and that ended, dined on a piece of bread and a draught of water. After dinner he took out his testament, and read a chapter on his knees, bare-headed, with extraordinary reverence. Just then came a poor man, saying his prayers. M. de Renty rose up to salute him, and fell into a discourse with him concerning God, and that so powerfully, that the poor man striking his breast, fell down upon the ground to adore that great God. Immediately after, came a poor maid to draw water at the well, whom he asked, What she was? She answered, a servant, “But do you know, said he, you are a Christian, and to what end you was created?” Whence he took occasion so to instruct her, that confessing she had never before thought of the end of her creation, she promised from thenceforth deeply to consider, and seriously to pursue it.

9. In his first return from Dijon, he stopped three or four times in the way, to instruct the poor passengers; and once went out of the road, to shew some labourers in the field, how to sanctify the work they were about.

10. A young maid in Paris, having been very cruelly used by her uncle, fell into such a disorder, that in a fury she accused our Saviour as the cause of her misery, for abandoning her to such a man. In this horrible condition, she received the sacrament several times in a day; on purpose to do despight to our Saviour, and provoke him to finish her destruction. M. de Renty was no sooner informed of this, than he hasted to find her out; as he did, after eight days search, in the very act of communicating. He immediately conveyed her thence, and took so great care both of her soul and body, that she returned to herself, and gave ample testimonies of her repentance.

11. As the design of advancing the salvation of men, is attended with much doing and much suffering, it is necessary for him that undertakes it, to fortify himself with courage and patience; and both these were most eminently in M. de Renty, being, in the first place, full of courage, resolute, and laborious; employing his body as if he had two more in reserve when that was spent; dispatching more business in one half-hour, than others did in many days. Very bold he was in entering upon difficulties, and quick in extricating himself from them.

12. A lady who had left much to pious uses, made him her executor. Being informed, her friends, men of eminent power, were much displeased, he replied, “I never moved her to bestow any of her estate this way; but since her piety has prompted her to it, I shall not be dismayed with any power that shall oppose it: my care is to perform her will, and for other things I take no thought.”

13. Seeing one day some gentlemen fighting, he threw himself between their swords, laying hold on those who seemed most outrageous. At first they quarrelled with him; but in a short time were friends, both with him, and with one another.

*14. His zeal was accompanied, secondly, with unparalleled patience; a virtue highly requisite for him that would save the souls of men; seeing he must endeavour to win their hearts, at which he is to make his first entrance; not following his own will or inclinations, but theirs; becoming all things to all men; waiting long for their conversion, and attending (without being tired and discouraged, though by all his labour he should gain but little ground) the favourable moments wherein they may yield to his motives. He must, like this holy man, not only be willing to endure hunger, thirst, heat, cold, wet, weariness and other outward pains, inseparably attendant on employments of this nature; but also the importunities, complaints, passions, the repulses, the contempts and injuries that are continually to be expected in them.

15. While he was employed in instructing the poor travellers in the hospital of St. Gervase, a man who was settled there, looking upon it as an intrusion into his office, came to him, as he was in the midst of the poor, and with many injurious and reproachful words, forbad him to come any more. M. de Renty having heard him without any emotion, replied, “The poor people had much need of instruction; and since he would not be at the pains of it himself, he prayed him not to hinder one that would.” This did not satisfy him at all, but he came four days together to drive out M. de Renty, interrupting him as soon as he began; but he still received him with the same spirit, and at length overcame evil with good.

16. One day he visited a person who, from a groundless suspicion, had cruelly used his wife; who understanding his business, entertained him very coarsely, giving him much opprobrious language, lifting up his hand to strike him, and offering to thrust him out of doors. M. de Renty replied not one word, but after some time, drew near again, embraced him, and accosted him with such soft language, that he was perswaded, at length, to go to confession, which he had not done in twelve years before, and to be fully reconciled to his wife; insomuch that he lived and died a good Christian.

17. Another time, visiting a poor, old man that was sick, he began, as usual, to speak of spiritual things. But the old man, instead of listning, fell into a passion, telling him, he understood those things better than he. M. de Renty told him, he would be glad to be instructed; and after a great deal of patience, and attention, taking advantage from some things in that weak discourse, to convince and inform him better, he proceeded so happily, that the rest of his days he led a truly Christian life.

18. His patience in bearing with the faults and imperfections of others, as it was truly exemplary, so it never took away, or weakened his desire to correct them, for which he only waited a proper occasion. When he intended to reprove another, he commonly first accused himself, to prepare them by his example. Having such an intention, he began a discourse of that openness with which Christians ought to tell one another the truth; for want of which we grow grey in our vices, and often carry them with us to our graves; saying, “He should hold himself ♦extremely obliged to any who would shew him that kindness. His friend finding his heart exceedingly softened, besought him to deal freely and plainly with him, in telling him whatsoever he saw amiss in him; which thing then he did.”

*19. But his patience did not in the least break in upon that fortitude, which is often requisite in the things of God, for the good of our neighbour, and for the worthy preserving of our just authority. He knew severity must be used sometimes, especially when we have to do with stubborn offenders; and accordingly advised a friend, concerning a third person, “Take heed of humbling yourself before that man; the abasing yourself in this case, would both prejudice him, and the cause of God. Reprove him severely and roundly.”

20. And not in these instances only, but in all others, his zeal was accompanied both with freedom and prudence. For though his humility has concealed many of his inward graces and outward actions, yet many likewise has his zeal brought to light, where he judged it necessary for the glory of God, or the good of his neighbour: concerning which he thus wrote to a virtuous lady:

“Give me leave to speak my thoughts of that liberty we ought to use, in communicating freely the gifts of God bestowed upon us, to such persons as may reap fruit from them; not stifling them in ourselves, whereby we obstruct a second fruit, which God expects from his graces. *We should consider ourselves set in the world as a chrystal, which, placed in the middle of the universe, would give free passage to all the light which it receives from above: so ought we to impart all the talents we receive, and this without disguise, or the least claim of propriety.

*“Farther: as the chrystal, if several torches were set under it, would transmit the beams of them all towards heaven: so whatever honours or commendations we receive from below, should freely pass through us up to God; for God hath therefore bestowed upon us such things as are praise-worthy, not that the praise thereof should rest upon us, but that it may pass through us to him, that he may ♦be blessed and praised in all things.”

21. Yet his zeal, though free, was not so indiscreet, as to be its own herald upon every appearance of doing good; but was very circumspect in weighing all circumstances. Accordingly, in the same letter, he gives this wise advice, touching the order and measure which are necessary to be observed in this communication.

“To some, we must lay open our hearts freely and exactly; to others more reservedly; to others we should be altogether locked up, concealing from them what we see no disposition in them to make a good use of.”

*22. Zeal indeed should be always attended with prudence, to consider things well, and execute them in the best manner; to prevent mischiefs, or redress them with as much of sweetness, and as little acrimony as possible: and in desperate cases, or where the cure would prove worse than the disease, to suffer and pass them over; some souls having defects, as it were, incorrigible, which God permits to perfect them by humility; and others likewise, that have an intercourse with them, by patience and charity.

*23. One great point of prudence requisite in a zealous man, is, neither to hurt his body by too much labour, nor his mind with too much business. As to the latter of these, M. de Renty took especial care, so to manage all his works of charity, that his piety might not be hindered but advanced thereby, indispensably performing all his exercises of devotion; and while he conversed most with his neighbour, reserving a considerable part, both of the day and night, for conversing with God. As to the other, he thus expressed himself to a clergyman, who had impaired his health by extreme labour:

“Give me leave, Sir, to tell you plainly, that you should not impose too much upon yourself, lest for want of moderation, you render yourself altogether unserviceable. The enemy usually takes no small advantage of such free and well-disposed natures; you are not your own, but a debtor to all men. Preserve yourself therefore, not by indulging your body, but by laying upon it no more than it is able to bear.”

24. Being at Citry, in the latter end of the year 1642, he had a strong impression upon his spirit, that at his return to Paris, he should find a new employment about the poor, and be much taken up therein. Accordingly, two days after his return thither, some persons came to advise with him, about a course of relieving all such poor in the city, as were ashamed to beg. He undertook to visit a fourth part of them, and to assist them according to their necessities. An employment sufficient to take up the whole time of one man, which yet he performed, notwithstanding the multitude of his other occupations; so that we must say, without a special assistance, he could not have done and suffered what he did; but God, who hath limited our strength of body, can increase it when and how he pleaseth.

25. Sometimes he received before-hand only a present impulse of something to be done, without any particular discovery. As when he was much pressed in spirit to go to Pontois, without understanding any reason for it; yet, believing it to be the call of God, he immediately undertook the journey; where unexpectedly he met with a nobleman of great quality, who was come from a province far distant, on purpose to be instructed by M. de Renty, how to serve God, which he had, till then, little known, and less practised.

26. But though this great servant of God had an excellent faculty of assisting all, yet was he more eminently assistant to some particular persons, for the healing their souls, and leading them on apace in the narrow way of perfection. I shall mention one only, the Countess of Chatres, who being deep in the affections of the world, as are most young ladies of her quality, it pleased God to inspire her with a desire to ask advice of M. de Renty; this he gave her with so happy success, that he himself was astonished at it. In less than a year, she was so perfectly disengaged from all those little conveniences and accommodations, which our ladies perswade themselves are absolutely necessary, that one offering her something of this kind, which she was formerly fond of, she answered, “I thank God, I have quitted this, and many more things, for the love of God, and yet find no want at all.”

27. God gave him light to discern her proper way, how to renounce herself, and advance in the paths of solid virtue, and to support her in great inward afflictions. And she, on her part, resigned up herself to his guidance, and forced herself to put his advice in execution: a thing very requisite in those who would make use of the conduct of others to good purpose.

*28. Though this happy intercourse, accompanied with such signal blessings, had contracted a strict and perfect friendship between them, yet he was very wary and reserved in his conversation with her; visiting her only when the work of God required it, and neither speaking nor staying with her any longer than was precisely necessary. This she thought a little harsh, and complained of it to a friend, whom she knew to have some power with him, saying, “M. de Renty extremely mortifies me with his civilities and reservedness. I have great need to see him often, and yet cannot obtain it. Nay, when we are together, he will not sit down, except when I am sick, or not able to stand any longer; and always with his hat in his hand. I beg you to tell him, what out of respect I dare not, what inquietude I suffer, to see his behaviour such toward me, who ought to be continually under his feet.”

The person acquainting him with this, he answered, “I proceed in this manner because my duty to God and to the Countess of Chatres require it. My Saviour obliges me to converse with her; but I must do no more than what is necessary, and so retire, for which this posture is most convenient. If we sat down, we should forget ourselves, and talk more than is necessary, and perhaps pass on to things unprofitable: therefore we ought both to stand upon our guard.”

29. Those who undertake the conduct of souls, ought seriously to consider this answer; and to be fully persuaded, that the business does not consist in speaking much to them, but in disposing them to speak to God, and in making them fit for God to speak to them.

30. In the year 1647, having visited one afflicted with great pains, he thus writ to his director:

“I have been with the person you know of, and have told her what I thought suitable to her condition. I acquainted her how we ought to lay this sure foundation, that we are nothing but weakness and misery itself; and that God from this insufficiency of ourselves to all good, means to extract humility and diffidence of ourselves, obliging us thereby to fly to his Son, to find strength in Him, and a remedy for all our miseries.

“As concerning myself, I have not much to say. Only I find within myself, by the mercy of God, a great tranquility in his presence, through the Spirit of Jesus Christ, and such an inward experience of eternal life, as I am not able to express. Yet I find myself, so naked and barren that I wonder at the condition I am in, and by which I discourse. In my converse with this person, I begun my speech, not knowing how to pursue it. After the second sentence I had not the least foresight of what should be the third; and so of the rest. Not but that I seem to have a perfect knowledge of the things I speak, in such a manner as I am capable of it. But I only utter what is given me, and in the same way as it is communicated, I communicate it to others.”

CHAPTER IX.

His outward behaviour, and conduct of business.

1.M. de Renty being sensible, that even our outward behaviour is of great consequence in the service of our neighbour, being that which makes the first impression upon them, did whatever he could for the well composing his exterior, keeping his gestures, motions, looks, and all parts of his conversation in such a harmony, as he judged fitted to draw his neighbour to God.

*2. He was very modest, always calm and inviolably equal. “Among all the things I observed in M. de Renty, (says one of his intimate friends) what first affected me was, his rare modesty and great evenness of behaviour. There was something in his looks which carried so much reverence in it one might easily judge, he was always actually in the presence of God.”

3. In every condition or employment whatsoever, he was the same in his looks, gestures, words and actions, whether alone or in company, with rich or poor, strangers or friends, before his children or servants, yea even before his footman, in the country or town, at the table, and every where.

4. And such a constant equality was the more observable, because of his natural disposition, which was not slow, heavy and phlegmatick, but cholerick, hot and active. But the exact and perpetual care he had over himself, had wholly inverted his nature, and brought him to a behaviour, as well as temper, directly opposite to those he took from his mother’s womb.

5. Another of his friends writes of him thus: “That which pleased me most in him was, His great recollection and intimate union with God: attended with such a wonderful peace of mind, as shone forth in his countenance, and begot ♦a kind of devotion in his beholders. This union, methought, was ever the same, without any sign of distraction or levity, or any word not necessary, no complaisance or human regard ever forcing him to scatter his spirit. Not but he was full of civility; but still so as to look more within himself than without.”

6. And indeed this continual presence of God, so wholly took up his spirit, that no unusual accident or object, or any thing rare or extraordinary could divert him. I never saw him admire any thing in the world, nor fix his ♦eyes upon any curiosity whatever. And his gait in the streets was so recollected, modest and equal, without gazing on any thing, that a man might see Jesus Christ was his way, his employment, and his all.

7. In his speech he was very resolved, by choice as well as by nature. In whatever company it concerned him to speak, he did so in his course, with a composed demeanor, and words few, but material. He was never known forward or eager to speak, or in speaking to do it with a higher tone than ordinary. If he gave an account of any business, he did it so briefly, and in words so pertinent, that it was a very hard matter to find one that spoke better, and yet less than he.

8. Things that were unprofitable, or the news of the times, were never the subject of his discourse: but always something pertaining to the kingdom of God. And when the conversation was diverted to worldly things, he either took leave of the company or stole away without.

9. And when he talked even of good things, it was with care and moderation: saying, “There was much need of sparingness and sobriety, when we speak even of the things of God, lest it turn to no good account: and that it was a great trouble to him, when among serious persons to hear them often spend precious time in talking of virtue at large, and to find them departing from such conferences, with dry, empty, and dissipated spirits.”

10. As to conduct of business, his method was, seriously to consider things, before any resolution, and if after his own sense was given, he found another’s to be better he readily quitted his own. After he had resolved, he was prompt, firm, and constant in the execution of it. But sometimes, when he had gone through the difficulties of a design, he left it to a friend to finish; not out of inconstancy, but to gain time for undertaking more, as well as to avoid the honour of it.

11. In all affairs that concerned the service of God, he had an immoveable constancy. And besides the force of his words, there appeared in his face an extraordinary assurance, (though his ordinary deportment was always sweet and quiet) which particularly appeared in all meetings, whereby he manifested such a spirit that those who beheld him, felt themselves struck with awful regard. His proposals generally carried so much light and force in them, that all were constrained to acquiesce in his determination. But if any disputed his reasons he knew how to enforce them; and if they chanced to make another reply, (which was a thing that exceeding rarely happened) he said not one word more, but his very silence, and the steadiness of his countenance, restrained any further dispute. The meeting ended, he would go to that person and ask his pardon; informing him, “That what he aimed at, was, not to make good his opinion but to advance the cause of God; in all other things he was ready to yield to every one.”

*12. But of all things he took care, not to overcharge himself with business, to the prejudice of his piety. He knew that outward employments, even the most holy, may be hindrances to inward holiness. Wherefore he was careful not to overburden himself with them, and very vigilant, that they should not distract and dissipate him, nor secularize his soul, but serve only as means to elevate and unite him more to God.

*13. And God so blessed him therein, that in the multitude of business, he was still in a continual recollection. A familiar friend asking him, Whether in that throng of employments, he observed his usual two hours of prayer; he answered, “When I can, I keep three hours, sometimes four or five; but when occasion offers to serve my neighbour, I easily quit them, for God of his mercy hath given me the grace, to be inseparably with him, even in the crowd of business.” To the same purpose he writ to his director; “I continue my devotion out of the time and place of prayer, even in the midst of converse and business: and I tell you sincerely, tho’ I perform every thing so ill, yet I find little difference of times for prayer, being recollected continually.” And the same might be gathered (as was observed before) from his modesty and composed countenance, clearly evidencing, that his soul was wholly and constantly in application to God, from whom he drew light and strength, for the conduct of all his business. Of which he thus wrote to his director; “My recollection hinders no business at all, but furthers it. Without it I should have a sollicitous desire of doing all myself: whereas I now act in a most calm way, in which I have no share; for it is our Lord that doth all.” In another letter thus; “Finding myself one day much burthened with variety of businesses, I had a desire to draw off my mind wholly; and at the same instant it was done. Since that time they create me no trouble, and I dispatch them more readily without thinking of them. This grace hath been often renewed in me, (although in several manners) which I acknowledge to be very great, because it preserves me disengaged, even in the multiplicity of business.”

*14. If after he had done his part, any design miscarried, he rested well satisfied. On such an occasion he thus writ to a friend; “We may take up good designs, and God often inspires them; yet when he is pleased to permit a contrary event, we must adore his secret will, which brings more of mercy in the crossing of them, than if they had succeeded. We should always be jealous over our spirit, that it fix not upon any thing.” And again, “Our Lord has his designs, which he effects by such means as we would not at all make choice of: The reason is, because he would break our wills, and abate our dependencies upon earth. Therefore he often crosses our best undertakings, being more jealous of the sacrifice of our hearts, than any thing else, how specious so ever.”

15. I cannot better conclude this chapter, than with a letter writ to his director on this subject:

“For these three or four months I have been, as it were, continually employed in outward works; as removing from place to place, new building a church, taking care of the sick, reconciling differences, conferring with all sorts of people. Yesterday hearing those words of the gospel read, ‘Thou art troubled about many things,’ it was said to my heart, ‘Thou art not troubled about many things,’ giving me to understand, that the things we are employed upon, according to the will of God, do not create us that trouble; and that Martha was not reproved for doing the work, but for doing it too sollicitously. Our Saviour intimating to her, that no business should be done with inordinate agitation of spirit. Since our great business is, to hear the eternal word, and act nothing with disturbance, but all in peace by his Spirit.”

*“I received hereby a great support in the performance of these petty exterior offices, and made no difficulty at all to yield myself up to this holily disordered divine order. At the same time I enjoyed such a sensible impression of God, yet excelling all sense, that if I had been thrown like a bowl, I could never have lost the sight of my God. Our Lord turns this bowl in a strange manner, even as it pleaseth him. And these several turnings are all for the soul’s advantage, whereby she is fashioned for every occasion, that she may do nothing for or by herself; but all for God, and according to him.

“I see likewise that one whom God employs in these low affairs, if he follow them with the same fidelity, is as acceptable to God, as one that is employed in the most noble functions. Will nothing please you but to convert worlds? You shall be content to carry stones; and sometimes to sit still and do nothing. You are then to offer the sacrifice of patience. And I believe it is a thousand times more rare, to find a soul thus faithful in patience, and content to do no more than God would have him, than faithful in actions that appear abroad.

“I have one word more to tell you; which is, that I am really ashamed and confounded, that I do no more for God: which indeed, with the sense of my unfitness for any thing that is good, would work me much torment, did I not consider, He is all-sufficient, and doth with us as he pleaseth.”

An  EXTRACT  from  the

LIFE and DEATH of

THOMAS WALSH.

THE INTRODUCTION.

THE exceeding riches of the grace of God our Saviour, and the effectual working of his mighty power, have in all ages shone most conspicuously in the holy lives and exemplary conversation of his eminent servants, the excellent of the earth, with whom are his peculiar delights.

And although, strictly speaking, He only is wise and good, nevertheless, there is a sense in which goodness is with propriety ascribed both to angels and to men. This consists in their resemblance of him who is the source and model of all goodness, holiness, and perfection; as proceeding from his fulness, whence life and blessedness flow to every creature, whether in heaven or in earth.

Of this kind the scriptures furnish us with several examples, Abraham, Enoch, Noah, Daniel and Job, (beside many others) are described in the Old Testament, as men walking before God, and perfect in their generation. And the eleventh chapter to the Hebrews contains little else than an account of ancient worthies, eminently remarkable for their faith, sufferings, patience, and glorious end; who considering themselves as strangers and pilgrims in this world, sought a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. And God, saith the apostle, hath provided some better things for us, that they without us should not be made perfect.

The time would fail to mention particularly the names of all the eminently faithful, who have lived and adorned their profession, since life and immortality have been brought to light by the gospel. They are an innumerable company. It is enough for us to know, that if any one loveth God, the same is known of him. Their names are written in the Lamb’s book of life, and shall at last be numbered amongst his jewels.

Among the number of persons eminent for their usefulness and personal holiness, which the present generation has produced, he, a part of whose life is here related, may justly be considered as one; and his example is one, which in some respects may be said to have its peculiar excellencies.

A circumstantial detail of such things as often find a place in this kind of writings, namely, family, childhood, education, stature, complexion, and a variety of common occurrences, is judged, as well tedious as foreign to the design of the work, which is to represent, principally what passed between God and his soul in the progress of his conversation and daily walking with God.

And yet neither is intelligence of this sort wholly omitted; he has left a few particulars relative thereto, which will enable the reader to form some idea, as well of the former as latter part of his pilgrimage.

His prayer was, ‘That this little book (meaning what is here called the first part, great part of which he wrote himself) may be made a blessing to all who shall read it; that the Lord Jesus may make it a means of kindling holy desire in their souls, and of stirring them up to the fear and love of God.’

PART the FIRST.

CHAPTER I.

Of his birth and education.

THOMAS WALSH, was born in the year of our Lord 1730, at a place called Bally Linn, in the county, and within about ten miles of the city of Limerick in Ireland. His father, Edmund Walsh, was by occupation a carpenter, a man of tolerable education, and strong natural understanding. His mother’s name was Helena Nougham, born of reputable parents. They were both members of, and entirely biggotted to the church of Rome.

When about eight years old, he was put to school to learn English (his mother tongue was Irish.) Afterwards he went to school to one of his brothers (of whom he had several) by whom he was initiated into the Latin tongue. Having acquired its rudiments in some tolerable degree, he went afterwards into the neighbouring county of Clare, with a design to be put apprentice, his friends intending him to be of his father’s trade.

But God in his adorable providence and unsearchable wisdom, had, as the event shewed, other designs concerning him. Disappointed therefore in this he returned to school, and proceeded in his pursuit of learning; applying himself at present to the study of Latin, which he had but lately intermitted.

After he had made some considerable progress in this, he applied himself to the study of some parts of the mathematicks, for which he thought he had a better genius than for languages. He soon acquired the knowledge of arithmetic, both vulgar and decimal, measuring superficies and solids, &c. And afterwards went to the city of Limerick in order to perfect himself in writing.

And now having continued at school till about the nineteenth year of his age, and having acquired such branches of literature as fitted him for being useful to others in the same way: he quitted school, and set up one for himself, wanting neither scholars nor ability to instruct them, which he did with success, during the time he continued his school.

CHAPTER II.

Of his religion, and the struggle which he found between nature and grace, till the sixteenth year of his age.

HIS parents (being as has been observed) members of, and strongly attached to the church of Rome, brought him up in the same principles and communion, and took care that his mind should be early furnished with the first and fundamental parts of what they judged his duty towards God.

“When (says he) I was young I learned the Lord’s prayer, and Ave Maria, in Irish, together with the hundred and thirtieth psalm in Latin; with the Popish augmentation thereto. And now I began to imbibe that uncharitable, anti-scriptural opinion, that all dissenters from the church of Rome were heretics, and in a state of damnation. But, since the Lord hath enlightened my understanding, I am fully convinced that therein I greatly erred, not knowing the scriptures, neither the power of God.

“I cannot but lament the case of those parents, who alas! not knowing what they do, endeavour to instill into the minds of their children such pernicious principles: and I do earnestly intreat all children, as soon as they come to years of discretion, to examine, and judge for themselves.”

It pleased our Lord to work in his heart very early. He made him bear the yoke in his youth, and by his terrors restrained him from excess, and the great offence. “Even while I was young and ignorant (says he) God was striving with me, and often terrified my heart: especially whenever I thought of the day of judgment, and of eternity!

“At those times especially, I frequently repeated the prayers I had learnt. But alas! to how little purpose? While I prayed neither with the spirit, nor with understanding. My heart was hard and stubborn, and my understanding was blind and foolish. I had no just conception either of God, or of religion. Nay, so great was my ignorance, that when I named our Saviour in Irish, I thought the name belonged to some woman in heaven.

“While I was thus foolish, and blind (even as a beast before thee!) my fallen nature began powerfully to discover itself. The seed of the serpent working in my heart, broke forth in words and in deeds. Now pride, anger, and self-will especially, reigned over me. But alas! I then little knew that those accursed tempers proceeded from that source of universal disorder, and all human miseries, original sin. I believed that this had brought temporal death into the world, and great disorder into the whole state of the visible creation: but of its subjecting the soul to spiritual, and exposing it to eternal death, I had no apprehension. I had, it is true, conviction whenever I did amiss; told a lie, or fell into any other outward sin. But the Spirit of God, and the holy scriptures alone, I now plainly see, could convince me that my tempers deserved the damnation of hell. And hitherto I was ignorant of both.

“When I was about eight years old, I began to love play, and divers other silly pleasures, spending the time I was out of school in catching of birds, playing at ball, and the like. My fondness for these occasioned my frequently breaking the sabbath, which I usually spent either in these vain amusements, or in reading some profane history, or other unprofitable book; and indeed no one so much as told me, that these kinds of employments were any violation of the Lord’s day: my parents, like the rest of their neighbours, esteeming them innocent diversions, harmless amusements.

“I did not then know that I ought not on this day to do mine own pleasure, to speak mine own words, or think my own thoughts; that I ought to spend it wholly in glorifying God, by praying to him, hearing his word, and reading and meditating therein; calling the sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable.¹ O the curse of ignorance and evil example! How many souls do these lead into the broad way of destruction! How happy would it have been for my poor soul, if I had known and remembered my Creator in the days of my youth! Had I been brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; had I known the scriptures from my childhood!² How would it have contributed to prevent my wrong conceptions, and to regulate, at least, in some measure, my whole conduct.

“From the tenth to the fourteenth year of my age, my corruptions increased, took deeper root, and more visibly appeared in my whole conversation: and yet I was more regular and conscientious in discharging my duty towards God. (So I was taught to call a dull form of words, part of which only were addressed to God, and the greatest part to saints and angels.) My parents according to custom brought me at the usual times to the priest, who examined me concerning the Pater Noster, Ave Maria, and credo in Deum, with some other rites of the church of Rome. But alas! to how little purpose? It made me neither wiser, nor better. Some part, it is true, of what he taught me, was according to the word of God; but the greater part entirely repugnant thereto, and to all truth and righteousness. But I knew not then how to distinguish between the truths of God, and the traditions of men, having had no knowledge of the law and the testimony, the only infallible touchstone of doctrine and practice. He might therefore have imposed whatever he pleased upon me; and the rather, as I was taught to believe whatever he said, and to consider it as coming from the mouth of God. Indeed I could not help observing even then, that several of those reverend gentlemen frequently erred in practice: tho’ still I thought they were infallible as to doctrine.

“After this catechising, I became more inquisitive, and began to read books of devotion. These I found for the present had their use. Whenever I read of the passion of our Saviour; the love of God to sinners; the joys of heaven, or the miseries of the damned, my heart became deeply affected; and much desire towards God enkindled in my soul.” But alas! it soon died away again, becoming like the morning cloud. The inconstancy and corruption of his heart, easily prevailing over those divine, but transient impressions.

“From the fourteenth to the sixteenth year of my age, I had more of the form, though less of the power of godliness, than even before. I now attended the public worship (that is, went to mass) and every night repeated my prayers, which were indeed no better than vain repetitions. But still, pride, anger, self-will, and revenge more powerfully prevailed over me than ever: and I added to these my former prevailing abominations, lies and evil words. Indeed I had an entire aversion to cursing and swearing in the gross sense; but abounded in petty oaths and bad wishes. Of this sort there are legions in the Irish language;” perhaps more, and more wickedly expressive than in any other language. “Being at play, I remember one day, and provoked by one of my play-fellows, I swore (horror to think!) by the glorious name of Jehovah (to the best of my remembrance I never did so before, nor ever since). In that instant I felt I had grievously sinned against God, and deserved his wrath and heavy displeasure.”

“To the rest of my evils I joined disobedience to my parents. Indeed I dared not shew it outwardly, to my father especially, whom I so dreaded as often to tremble for fear of him. But my heart was hard and stubborn.” One instance of this he mentions which wrought him many a bitter reflection afterwards; for years he hardly ever thought of it without being deeply affected with shame and sorrow. Having one day thro’ his stubbornness greatly provoked his mother, and given her a wicked and impertinent answer, she said to him “You have grieved me.” “It went like an arrow through my heart. I knew the fifth commandment (the fourth indeed I then called it according to the custom of the church of Rome) strictly forbids disobedience to parents, and that to honour them, is the first commandment with promise. Justly therefore was I condemned. But, O God! How little is it to be wondered at, that I did not rightly love, neither was obedient to my earthly parents, while I knew neither love, nor obedience towards thee, my Father, who art in heaven? Well do I know now (and praised be thy love for this knowledge) that such as are froward towards thee, will, while they remain so, never be truly a comfort to their parents.” They may indeed, pay an outward compliance, and a seemingly dutiful subjection, as is often seen even among professed worldlings; but cordially and disinterestedly to love, honour and reverence our parents, can only be the effect of subjection in heart and life to the Father of spirits. So universally true is it, that “A foe to God, was ne’er true friend to man.”

CHAPTER III.

Giving a farther account of him; the corruptions he struggled against, and the means he made use of to subdue them, from the sixteenth to the eighteenth year of his age.

NOW, both his sins and convictions daily encreased upon him. The desire of the flesh in particular raged in his nature, and it wanted not its frequent and prevalent incitements. Now likewise he began to assume the man, and kept more company than before, which not a little inflamed his besetting sin. Temptations from without were multiplied, and there wanted not opportunities and solicitations from the devil and nature to defile himself before the Lord. But still the preventing grace of God restrained him from sinning against him, in the actual transgression. This indeed, tho’ it did not, could not, exempt from guilt, fear and shame, considering the purity of the gospel law, nevertheless became justly matter of his thanksgiving to God. “I do (says he) praise God unfeignedly, for with-holding me from my own actual wickedness, and preventing my leading others into the cursed and detestable abomination. But I abhor and condemn myself for the concupiscence and wickedness of my heart, which (with grief and horror God knoweth I speak it!) discovered itself in other respects, such as it is a shame even to mention. Of this no human eye could be a witness.” But God, his holy angels, and his own conscience were more than ten thousand witnesses against him.

And now, at length, his life became a burden to him, almost insupportable. His true character at this time was, O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me! He felt “indwelling sin, indwelling hell,” and breathed in many a groan,

“The Spirit of God (says he) deeply wounded me. The arrows of the almighty stuck fast in me, and my very bones trembled because of my sin. I was persuaded in my heart that this commotion was conviction for my sin; but had little conception that the Holy Spirit was the chief agent in the work: for alas! So great was my ignorance that I did not know there was any Holy Ghost for me to receive.”

“While I was thus in the midst of my extremity, I confessed to the priest according to the custom of the church of Rome. He advised me to say many prayers (as he termed counting my beads) but alas! This did not do: and indeed how should it? I was brought into captivity through the power of sin which reigned in my members. And even my multiplied prayers could be little else than an abomination to the Lord, while neither the form, nor the matter of them was according to the will of God. Many of them being little else than vain repetitions, and babblings to physicians of no value, in this respect; which therefore left me under the power of sin and death.”

Indeed how else should it be? While he was yet unthought of; at least unapplied to, who alone could help him; even Jesus, whose name is salvation: and beside which, in heaven or in earth, there is none other, by which a sinner can be saved. He it is that invites, and he only can, and doth, give the weary and the heavy laden, to find rest to their souls, and who at length did “allay his fever of desire, by sprinkling him with his blood.”

Hearing the priest preach one Lord’s day, and declaim vehemently against a variety of gross sins, the discourse, tho’ (as his words are) “mixed with many falsities,” so deeply affected him, that in the anguish of his spirit, he resolved never more to return to house or home, till God should shew him mercy. This precipitate and unadvised resolution was however of short continuance. In fact, the commotion and disordered state of his soul ill admitted of any thing uniformly steady whether right or wrong, either by purpose or in practice: it therefore soon vanished away, and he again sought by various ways to procure some alleviation of his distress.

“I strove (says he) to divert myself in the best manner I could, seeking rest and peace in the miserable comforts of this world. But my conscience was still restless, and a hell opened in my breast. Not knowing what to do, nor which way to turn for rest, I at length attempted to quiet the clamours of my troubled mind, by solemnly resolving how soberly, righteously, and godly I would live the residue of my life. Full of these good purposes, and strengthened as I thought by vows and promises, I hoped all would be well; having all this while no idea of the satisfaction by Christ and the all-sufficiency ♦of his merits; and therefore, resolving only in my own strength, my resolutions proved as broken cisterns, which could hold no comfort; and as broken reeds, which afforded no strength!”

Struggling on still in the dark, he added fasting to his prayers and resolutions. But all this did not do. He still found himself bound as in affliction and iron. He remained in sore bondage, doing the evil he would not, and not doing the good, which he would have done, (Romans ♦vii.) His convictions became still sharper and his fear of hell more deeply distressing. Endeavouring therefore by some means or other to procure rest for his soul, he had recourse to his former shifts, and says, “I repeated my resolutions and vows against sin; but especially whenever I fell into any outward wickedness; and above all, the sin that did so easily beset me. Then I was as on the rack, and thro’ extremity of anguish, have frequently struck myself against the ground, tearing the hairs from off my head.”

His light began now to encrease with his painful feeling. “About this time (says he) by reading, and the help of the holy Spirit, I began to have a still clearer notion concerning the nature and consequences of sin, and particularly of those which by the church of Rome are termed mortal sins.”

This increase of knowledge did not however mend, much less heal his heart. No,

And even in this respect he found it true, that he that encreaseth knowledge, encreaseth sorrow; a proposition which is universally true, with respect to all the pursuits of the soul after happiness: the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and him crucified, alone excepted. Struggling therefore in his chains, he resolved upon other measures. And finding that his prayers, tears, resolutions, and vows did not avail, he devised another expedient, and came to this determination, solemnly to swear to the Lord, imagining that then it would not be possible that he should break with him afterwards, has had been the case, with all his former efforts.

Accordingly he bound himself by an oath, that for the time to come he would abstain from, and utterly renounce all those sins which had wrought him so much uneasiness. This procedure begot in him for the present, rather some cessation from torment, than true peace, and left him for a while in deep security. But alas! It was not long ere he found this band likewise was altogether weak as the staff of a broken reed. He fell into one of those very sins, against the commission of which he had so sacredly bound himself; involving by this means his enlightened conscience in the additional guilt of (what he called) perjury, and thus rendered his anxiety and embarrassment great beyond description.

Who can conceive what his weary spirit now experienced! His wretchedness and confusion exceeded all the powers of words to express.

Yea, he gave up hope; and became well nigh desperate. He knew not whither to betake himself, or what should be his next step; reasoning thus with himself in the bitterness of his soul, “Since I have perjured myself in one instance, I may as well commit all my old sins over again. Thus (adds he) I was driven by the devil, allured by sin and corruption, and deceived by my own evil heart.”

About this time likewise, it pleased our Lord to visit him with a fit of illness, by which his fears and misery were considerably increased. He often bewailed himself in the uttermost anguish of spirit, with weeping and lamentation, breathing out his soul in moans. “O the guilt of sin; when charged home upon the conscience by the Spirit of God, what an intolerable load! A wounded spirit who can bear!”

Thus, being ignorant of God’s righteousness; the way of becoming righteous, or justified, which he hath appointed, he went about to establish his own righteousness, expecting to be justified by the works of the law, and not by the faith of Jesus Christ.

He became wearied in the multitude of his counsels, and seeking not in God’s way it fared with him accordingly. For still, although he sought for rest, he found it not, because he sought it not aright. These were indeed the days of his invincible ignorance, at which therefore the God of love graciously winked. He knew not, because as yet he had no one to teach him. “How (as he says) could I do otherwise? I had not the bible to instruct me; for I never had read it, except a little at school, when I was about eleven years old. Woe to you (he adds) ye blind guides (meaning the Romish clergy) ye have taken away the key of knowledge, that is, the word of God from the people. It is this which unfolds the hidden treasures of his will, and free grace towards mankind. While therefore I remained ignorant of this, no wonder that I went on in error, and fought as one that beateth the air.”

But now the true teacher began more powerfully to manifest himself to him, although as yet he knew him not. The spirit of truth proceeding from the Father and the Son, wrought in him daily, a still deeper solicitude about his salvation. Among others of his reflections in reference thereto, he began to think more seriously than ever, of the doctrine of the church of Rome, and of his own connexions with her; resolving that whatever might be the consequence, he would, both do, and avoid, whatever appeared to him, nay in any measure contribute to the true life of his soul. Thus, hitherto

CHAPTER V.

Some further account of his progress in the way of life, with other reasons of his conduct in regard of the church of Rome.

THE affair of renouncing communion with the Romish church, and declaring himself a member of the church of England, being now over, he set himself to read with much diligence the holy scriptures, together with the writings of some of the most eminent Protestant divines. And hereby he received further light every day, being more and more persuaded that his conduct was right.

By this means he began likewise to see into the nature of the gospel, and the one, only way which it points to life and blessedness, grace and glory. ‘Now (says he) I begin to discern clearly that it is the blood of Christ alone which cleanseth from sin, and that by one offering of himself once for all, he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.’¹—Perfectly accomplished, without any need of other helps, or repetitions of the same, all that was necessary in order to the justification and glorification of all believers.

“I likewise became now more clearly sensible of the errors which I formerly held. As 1st, Thinking that my own works could merit something from God. 2dly, vainly imagining that there is a place for the purgation of sin after death. When at any time therefore I was asked now, why I had left the church of Rome? I could answer upon good and solid grounds: because I am well assured that the doctrines of merit (to speak of no more) and works of supererogation, are contrary both to reason and scripture.”――To reason, it being absurd to suppose that a creature, receiving life, and breath, and all things from its Creator, should be able to love, adore, and obey him, more than is required of him as his indispensable duty.――To scripture; being flatly contrary to the words of Christ, When ye shall have done all these things which are commanded you, say, that is, take knowledge, we are unprofitable servants.¹

“Beside, If the blood of Christ, the merit of all he hath done and suffered, cleanseth from all sin,¹ what imaginable need can there be of the fire of purgatory? Surely when all sin is cleansed, or taken away, there can be none remaining.” Alas for those who trust for safety to such a staff of a broken reed! Deferring the present opportunities and means of deliverance from sin and death, under the pretence of some future purgation from sin in the invisible world.

“If all the light of this world was to be immediately at once extinguished, all human souls that were not in some real degree of regeneration, would immediately find themselves but the rage of fire, and horror of darkness.” O then thou poor sinner, whoever thou art, repent, repent, and turn to God, whilst thou hast flesh upon thee; for as long as that lasts the kingdom of God is nigh at hand: but if thou diest without true conversion, better thou hadst never been born! For then “black lakes, bottomless pits, ages of a gnawing worm, and a fire that never ceases to burn, will stand between thee and the kingdom of heaven for ever.”

His now encreasing knowledge in the things of God; his ability from the holy scriptures to distinguish between truth and error, became daily and justly matter of his thanksgiving to God. But yet his unregenerate nature was not, could not be truly at rest. The word of God was now indeed his study and delight. But it served likewise, by shewing him how his heart and life must be, more deeply to distress him. The commandment in its spiritual and extensive meaning, still dissecting his inward parts, slew him (Romans vii. 8‒11.) so that he was clearly and distressingly sensible of his death in trespasses and sins. His convictions and anguish of spirit became therefore more afflictive than ever.

The small cessation from pain which his relinquishing popery afforded, served now, only to augment his sorrow, to find that after all, the great affair was yet to do. And such was his present anxiety, that he even forgot, or neglected to eat his bread. “My conscience (says he) still condemned me, there was no rest in my bones by reason of sin.” And yet meaning to make sure work, he desired to know the uttermost of his evil and danger. To this end he read those passages, both divine and human, which seemed most to condemn him: “For I was willing (adds he) to know the worst of my condition: not indeed that this was always the case. Sometimes the devil, and the corruption of my nature so far prevailed as to hush my conscience, and drown my convictions, by a variety of thoughts, and things.”

Thus far did he labour through the furnace of heart-tormenting conflict; assaulted on the one hand by the Romanists, who still wrought him all the trouble they could, both by calumny and contention: And on the other, by the ruler of the darkness of this world; Satan and his emissaries, seeking to devour him. Our Lord’s words, John xvi. 21. were literally verified in him; as indeed they are more or less, in every one that is truly born again. He travailed in birth, and was in sorrow, and pain to be delivered. The agony of his heart frequently extorted from him, complaints to this effect, the sorrows of death have compassed me about, and the pains of hell have got hold upon me! He found trouble and heaviness. In his distress he cried unto the Lord, and said, O Lord I beseech thee deliver my soul! I am oppressed, undertake for me!

And thus he remained for some time waiting, and longing for his God, even as the thirsty ground for showers. His sorrow it is true was often interspersed with gleams of sweetly reviving hope. That yet a little while, and he whom he sought would come, and would not tarry, while his very pulse still beat, Make no long tarrying, O my God. Make haste my beloved, and come away. Be thou like a roe, or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether. The Lord did indeed wait to be gracious to him, and was exalted in having mercy upon him. He brought to the birth, and gave strength to bring forth. For the spirit of heaviness, he afterwards received the garments of praise, and for mourning the oil of joy.

CHAPTER VI.

Of some particulars previous to his conversion.

AFTER having made use of every means, which either men or books could suggest, but without the desired effect, (being now in the nineteenth year of his age) as he returned to his lodging one evening in the city of Limerick, March 17, 1749, he saw an uncommonly large concourse of people assembled in a place called the Parade adjoining to the main street. He turned aside to see what it meant; and perceiving a man preaching to the people in the open air (a thing then quite new in Ireland,) he eagerly stopped to know what he said. And hearing him (Mr. R. S.) from Matthew xi. 28. affectionately, and earnestly entreat all persons to come to Jesus Christ, that they might find rest to their souls: and withal exhorting them to search the scriptures, and see for themselves if what he said was not true; it filled him with wonder, and with desire to know more of this matter.

He had of a long time sorely felt the want of rest, that is, happiness in his soul. And notwithstanding all his endeavours to obtain it, like the poor woman in the gospel,¹ who had spent all that she had upon physicians and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, his case became every day more insupportable. A pressing invitation therefore to partake of, and an assurance of finding the very thing he so wanted, could not fail of being acceptable to him.

So impenetrable is the abyss of God’s judgments! Great things doth he, which who can comprehend! He had prepared the soul of his servant to receive with inexpressible joy, the gospel of peace, and sent it him in a way which he least of all expected, and which the wisdom of man would never have made choice of, Thus,

“But here (says he) it may be needful, in order the better to understand some particulars which will be hereafter related, to premise ♦a few things relative to this preacher, and the people to whom he belonged, 1st, he was one of the people called Methodists, and a member of the church of England. 2dly, This people began to preach Christ, and justification thro’ his blood, about the year 1738, having had their beginning at Oxford, in the Rev. Mr. John and Charles Wesley; the former a fellow of Lincoln College, and the latter, student of Christ Church. These two brothers having obtained mercy themselves, were called of God to publish his love to others likewise, by preaching the gospel of the kingdom, to every creature that would hear the joyful sound. Accordingly, out they go into the lanes and highways, crying in the voice of wisdom to the sons of men, beseeching and compelling sinners to turn to God, to come to that feast of marrow and fat things, which he hath prepared for all who will but accept of life and salvation.”¹

“After these servants of God had been thus employed for some time, it pleased their divine Master, to send forth other labourers also into his harvest, to assist in the same blessed work: not indeed such as human wisdom would have appointed, the great or wise men of this world; but quite the contrary: the poor (for the most part) and as St. Paul says, the base and weak, that thus, leaving no room for boasting or glorying in man, whoso glorieth might glory in the Lord.”¹

“Some of these, after preaching the gospel in the streets and highways, to their own countrymen, brought the glad tidings to Ireland also; where, going about from place to place, thro’ cities and villages, they freely declared, what they had so freely received, to every one that would hear. And glory be to God, their labour of love was not in vain. He that sent them, gave their word his blessing, so that many received it gladly; and having felt its power, to this day bring forth fruit with patience; the fruit of righteousness, to the glory of God.”

It was some weeks before he had opportunity of hearing them again, being obliged to take care of his school in the country. On his next return to Limerick he heard another of them (Mr. T. W.) and liked their preaching still better. But his fondness for, and attachment to the word of God, would not admit of his taking things of so high a nature upon trust. He therefore compared their doctrine with the word of God, and with the articles and homilies (which were now likewise his secondary, standards of truth) of the church of England; and “I found it, (says he) to be consonant with both. I became daily more and more attached to them, and their manner of living encreased my affection for them. They appeared to me to be true followers of Christ, and his apostles, adorning the doctrine of God in all things.”

“When they had preached the gospel at Limerick for some time, they came over to New-Market, a village where I then resided, about eight miles from thence. In a little time there was a society formed, (so they called those who met weekly together, in order to sing the praises of God, to pray to him, and to help each other on to heaven.) To these I joined myself a member, September 29, 1749, in order to be more fully instructed in the way of salvation.”

CHAPTER VII.

Giving a farther account of the state of his soul, particularly of his deep convictions.

GOD had, by this time, made plain his way before his face. His holy word had fully informed his understanding, how a sinner can find favour with God. His scruples were all removed, and he wanted only the possession of what he saw as at a distance; to know, by experience, the certainty of those things wherein he had been instructed.

His soul reached out with vehemency of desire to the mark of the prize of his high calling. But yet he could not lay hold on the hope set before him. He could not break the bondage of unbelief, of which he was now deeply convinced, and under which he groaned continually. In short, he felt what cannot be easily explained: the sorrows and strugglings, as well as joys, of the truly regenerate, being of such a nature, that strangers to that happy change can have very imperfect conceptions of. (1 Chronicles ii. 11.)

*He particularly describes the manner, in which he perceived himself wrought upon, as follows,

“1st. The Lord convinced me of my bosom sin, that which did most easily beset me; representing the heinousness of it in various circumstances.”

“2dly. All my other abominations: sins in general, of omission, and commission were set in array before me, as an army ready to devour me; or, as so many devils ready to tear me in pieces. God wrote them down in large characters, so that I might well say, My sins were ever before me.”

“3dly. I was clearly convinced, that not only my sins, but likewise what I called my duties, were an abomination unto the Lord. My righteousness appeared as filthy rags. The corrupt tree could not bring forth good fruit.”

“4thly. The same spirit convinced me, that I was an unbeliever; that I had not true faith, and therefore no part nor lot in the Lord Jesus Christ. As an unbeliever I was condemned already, and the wrath of God abode upon me, (John iii.) I assented indeed to every thing revealed in the bible; yet I now clearly perceived, I lacked the very true, Christian faith. I learned from the Methodists, so called, and had it confirmed to me by the New Testament, that whosoever has true faith, has with it the remission of sins,¹ and is at peace with God. I read, that whosoever believeth, is born of God; and he that is born of God sinneth not:² but I sinned, and thence inferred, I had not faith, neither was born of God.”

“5thly. I was deeply convinced, that I could not help myself; that I was utterly unable to work, either repentance, faith or holiness in my own soul, and that it was by grace alone I could be saved.”

“6thly. I was without comfort, and miserable. My soul was grieved, and my heart fainted within me. I found labour and sorrow beyond expression. Worldly comforts availed nought. I had no rest night or day. When I prayed I was troubled; when I heard a sermon, I was pierced as with darts and arrows. Whenever I either read or conversed, still I was broken and bruised in heart. Thus was I stripped of all, and wretched, and blind and naked; having neither faith nor power, holiness nor happiness. Truly there was no sound part in me. All was wounds and bruises, and putrifying sores. Often I could neither sleep nor eat. The affliction of my soul so affected my body, that at length I was obliged to take to my bed.”

“7thly. I saw by the same light of the holy Spirit, the ground of all this, namely, Original sin. This I felt was the source of all my misery and helplessness. By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all, for that all have sinned.¹ Here I saw the root of all evil. Hence are we children of wrath; banished from God, and the tree of life.”

This was his state about the year 1749. And in substance, I believe (tho’ all do not so circumstantially attend to it) this agrees with the experience of most of the children of God.

One would not however attempt to fix a determinate point: making the progress of the work of God in one, or a thousand persons, a standard by which to judge of the genuineness of the experience of others. There are diversities of operations by the same spirit. But it is the same God, who worketh all in all.

With some souls, it pleaseth our Lord to deal more gently, than with others; as (to mention no more examples) in the case of Lydia, and the jaylor, (Acts xvi.) The latter, trembling and terrified, fell down, prostrate, before Paul and Silas, and said, in the utmost consternation, What must I do to be saved! While the former, without any such previous terror, had her heart gently opened to attend unto, and receive the words of eternal life, which were spoken of Paul. And there are no doubt, thousands of resembling instances at this day.

But in general, it may be observed, that with regard to those, whom God intends for the service of other souls, he gives them to feel, as they are able to bear, the uttermost of their nature’s death; the bitterness and desert of the sin that dwells in the heart, as well as the wicked works of their life, before he shews them his salvation; that being feelingly acquainted with the evil nature of sin, and the wretchedness of an unregenerate state, they may be the better capable of sympathizing with, and counselling others in like circumstances; and be quickened in their endeavours of saving souls from death.

But in all who are begetting again to newness of life, there is a deep consciousness of want. And there never has been an instance of true conversion among grown persons, where the soul did not previously feel its poverty, guilt, or danger, in a greater or less degree. Our Saviour heals none who have not a feeling want, producing earnest desires of being healed. It is the weary and the heavy laden, whom he calls to come to him, that they may find rest to their souls. He is the living bread, and the water of life, for which, only awakened souls hunger and thirst, and with which alone, they can be satisfied.

Having mentioned St. Austin, with reference to the usual manner of our Lord’s dealing with souls, intended for the service of others; and considering the resemblance, which in some parts of his experience, there is, with the experience of him before us, I persuade myself it will not be unacceptable to some readers, to subjoin a short account of the travail of his soul, above fourteen hundred years ago, in his own words.

“Thou, O Lord, didst turn me about towards myself; and tookest me from behind my back, where I had placed me, whilst I had no mind to observe myself, that I might see how deformed a thing I was; covered over with scabs and ulcers: and I beheld, and abhorred.—But I, then a wretched young man, had in the first dawning of my youth, begged of thee chastity; and had said, Give me chastity; but yet awhile do not give it. For I feared thou shouldst hear me too soon, and presently heal me of that disease and concupiscence which I wished, rather might be satiated than extinguished.—But now was the day come, in which I was laid naked to myself, and my conscience began to reproach me.――I was inwardly corroded, and extremely confounded.”

“—Amidst this great controversy within, which I hotly disputed with my soul, troubled as well in countenance as in mind,—my eyes, forehead, cheeks, colour, the accent of my voice more spoke my passion than words could.—There was a little garden belonging to my lodging, which I had the use of. Thither this tumult in my breast carried me away, where none might hinder the hot contention which was engaged within me, until concluded in that issue, which thou already knewest, but not I. Only I was in suffering a death that would beget life: well knowing what evil I then was; not knowing what good, within a little while, I was to be.—I fretted my spirit, whilst all my bones cried out.――From whence such a monster? Let thy mercy enlighten me, and let me enquire, Whence such a monster? and how can this be?――”

“Thus I was accusing myself much more severely than formerly, and winding to and fro in my chain; a small piece only of which now held me; yet held me still. And thou, O Lord, pressedst sore upon me in mine inner parts, with a severe mercy, redoubling the lashes of fear and shame.—And the point of time, in which I was to become another man, as it approached nearer, struck me with more horror. Yet it did not make me to recoil, or turn away; but only to stand in a suspense.”

*“Such was the contest acted within my heart.—But as soon as more profound meditation had drawn out, from the very bottom of this sink, and laid on an heap, all my misery before the view of my soul; there arose in me a mighty tempest, bringing with it great showers of tears.—I, under a certain fig-tree, threw down myself, I know not how, and gave liberty to my tears; and the rivers of my eyes ran a-pace. And I said, Thou, Lord, how long? How long wilt thou be angry, for ever? Remember not my former iniquities, Psalms lxxix. 5, 8. For I well perceived I was still possessed, and with-held by them, and therefore cast out such miserable complaints, How long? How long? To-morrow, and to-morrow? Why not presently? Why not this very hour, an end to my filthiness.”

*“These things I uttered as I wept with bitter contrition: and behold, I heard a voice as from a neighbouring house, as of a boy or girl, in a singing note, saying, and often repeating; tolle, lege; tolle, lege; take up and read; take up and read. And presently my countenance being altered, I began to consider, whether children were wont in any kind of play to sing such words: nor could I call to mind that I any where heard the like.”

“Whereupon, suppressing the course of my tears, I rose up, interpreting it to be a divine admonition, that I should open the book, and read the place I first light upon.—So getting up hastily, I returned to the place where I had been sitting before, for there I had left St. Paul’s epistles. I catched it up, opened it, read in silence the piece of the chapter on which I first cast mine eyes; not in rioting and drunkenness; not in chambering and wantonness; not in strife and envying: but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof. Romans xiii. 13.”

“I could read no farther, nor was there need: for at the end of those lines, as it were with a new light of confidence streaming into my soul, the darkness of all former doubting and hesitancy was dispelled.――”

*“O Jesus Christ, my helper, and my Redeemer! How sweet on a sudden became it to me, to submit my neck to thy easy yoke, and my shoulders, unto thy light burden.――And what before, it was my fear to lose, how was it now my joy to dismiss! For thou the true, and the supreme sweetness, didst expel them from me: thou expelledst them and thyself enteredst into me instead of them: more delicious than all delights, but not to flesh and blood: more bright and glorious than all light, but to the inward hidden man, exalted above the heights of all honour, but not to those who exalt themselves.—And now my infant tongue began to converse with thee, my ambition, and my riches, and my salvation, my Lord God!”

CHAPTER IX.

Of the confirmation of his soul in the grace of God, and the happy effects which it produced in him.

HE lived now as in another world. Behold God is my salvation, went through the whole of his heart and conduct. His soul was delighted with those good things reserved for, and enjoyed only by such as love God. He so tasted that the Lord is gracious, as left no room, at present, for evil reasonings, and engrossed his whole body and soul for God. The overflowings of his joy corresponding with his former sorrow, rendered him happy beyond all description.

And this, as may be observed in the experience of the faithful, is commonly the case; the peace and joy of justified souls, being usually proportionate to their previous distress; God in this respect likewise, comforting them according to the time wherein he had shewed them trouble. The grand enquiry is “Am I really converted? Am I now at peace, and in fellowship with God my Saviour?” If so, is not the precise how immaterial? Such persons then as have been led by slow, and gradual steps; who have by a comparatively easy transition passed from darkness to light, Let them give glory to their deliverer, and not, on this account, perplex themselves with scruples for having been so gently dealt with. Let them live only for Him, and they shall be finally approved, in the presence of God and of his holy angels.

His happiness now received daily increase from the undoubted assurances which he received of the genuine change.

He observes, “the more I compare my experience with the word of God, and with the experience of his children, I am the more confirmed that it is no delusion, no fancy; but a real work of God, a saving change wrought in my soul by the Spirit of God, through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I am persuaded however that the natural man, (1 Corinthians ii. 14.) cannot receive the things of the Spirit of God. He has neither eyes to see, nor a heart to understand them. A stranger doth not intermeddle with this joy. It is the hidden manna, and the white stone, and the new name (of adoption) written thereon, (Revelation ii. 17.) which no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. Glory, glory be to God on high!

“Now did I find the yoke of Christ to be easy indeed, and his burden light. His thoughts and commandments were sweet to my soul, sweeter than honey to my tongue. It was my comfort all the day long to praise my Lord, and to walk in the ways which he set before me. He created me unto good works, and I chearfully walked in them.”

The Love of God being thus shed abroad in his heart enabled him rightly to love his brother also. His soul was drawn out in good will and tender affection to every creature: neighbours and strangers, friends and enemies. “I could (says he) unfeignedly love them that hated me, and pray for them that despitefully used and persecuted me!” Thus truly evidencing himself, to be a child of his Father in heaven.

*But he did not stop here. His soul thirsted more and more for all the mind that was in Christ Jesus. He followed after, and longed for, an entire renovation; for nearer and stronger union and communion with the Lord Jesus: nor could he be at all easy, otherwise than in a free and near access to him, and a sweet enjoyment of his gracious presence. His constant cry was, “Make me holy. Fulfil in me all the good pleasure of thy goodness, and the work of faith with power.” For this he struggled, and pleaded much with God.

This was early his mark, and the glorious prize at which he aimed throughout the residue of his christian race.

His enjoyments were hitherto, with scarce the smallest alloy, having had, not so much as a doubt concerning the reality of what had passed in his soul. The fury of the oppressor was so restrained, and the light of divine truth so abode with him, that he continually set to his seal that God is love, and taketh pleasure in the prosperity of his children. All fear of death and hell was removed from him; neither had sin any dominion over him. “God (says he) gave me the victory thro’ our Lord Jesus Christ, whose righteousness was imputed to me for the remission of my sins!”

“Therefore did I know that I was a child of God, under grace, because sin did not reign in my mortal body, that I should obey it in the desires thereof. If so much as an evil thought was at any time injected, or the remains of the old man began to stir in me, I had immediate power to resist and overcome them!

“Tempted indeed I was; but in every temptation there was a way made for my escape. Whenever the enemy came in upon me as a flood, Jesus appointed salvation for walls and bulwarks around me. He lifted up a standard against him, and frustrated all his counsels: for greater is he that was in me, than he that is in the world.

*“I may say in few words, that the kingdom of God was within me. I fed upon marrow and fatness, and with comfort drew water out of the wells of salvation. Sin, and temptation, and pain fled before the Lord Jesus, who dwelt in my heart by faith. I walked and talked with God all the day long. Whatsoever I believed to be his will, I did to the uttermost of my power, with my whole heart. Prayer, reading, fasting, watching, communicating, and Christian fellowship, were the joy of my soul. The commandments of God, and his holy laws, were my delight. I not only rejoiced ever more, but prayed without ceasing, and in every thing gave thanks, whether I eat or drank, or whatever I did, it was indeed in the name of the Lord Jesus, and to the glory of God!”

CHAPTER X.

His employment among his Christian brethren, and the treatment he met with from the world.

*THE treasure of light and love, which God had put into the soul of his servant, began now, to shine clearly to others. They could easily discern an amazing change in his very aspect, as well as tempers, and conduct in general. The calm, and at the same time, divine chearfulness and serenity of his soul, rendered him a desirable, as well as useful member of their religious meetings. And the loving zeal which he felt for promoting the glory of his dying God, prompted him to exert himself with much fervour in the service of his neighbour.

Thus with a heart set on fire, to pay, at least some small returns, for all that ocean of mercy, and love which he had experienced in himself, he sought opportunities, and embraced every occasion of imparting all the good which he possibly could to others; till it seemed good to those who directed their religious exercises to appoint him leader of a class, (so called) that is, a little company of Christian friends, mutually agreed to meet together weekly, in order to their furtherance in the way of godliness: one person of which was stiled leader.

This was the little office assigned him at present, in which “My business (says he) was, 1st. To see each person in my class once a week, and if any were absent, to enquire into the cause. 2. Whenever we met together, to sing psalms or hymns, and to pray with them. 3. To examine how their souls prospered, and what progress they had made the preceeding week in the way of the Lord?” Whether they were unanimously determined to serve God with their whole heart? If any had fallen into sin, they were reproved; if tempted, they were comforted and encouraged; and those who ran well, adorning their profession in all things, were exhorted still to press forward, and give glory to God.

After a faithful, and friendly examination of each other (between which and the Popish Auricular Confession, with which some have erroneously or unkindly ♦parallel’d it, there is scarce the most distant resemblance) they concluded with praising God and prayers suited to their several conditions.

But besides this, he met with the whole society two or three times a week, when with praises and prayers, there was always a word of exhortation preached or read. And it pleased God, to testify his approbation thereof, by the singular display of his presence amongst them; by replenishing their souls with abundance of his grace and heavenly benediction.

*And, “O (adds he) how wonderfully did we experience the power, and love of God, whenever we made prayer and supplication to him! We had a heaven among us; a paradise within us! The Lord poured such peace and joy into our hearts, and we were often so happy that we did not know how to part. We lived as brethren, and strove together for the hope of the gospel. We were of one heart, and of one mind, in the presence of God. And is not this the communion of Saints?”

Mean time, his hitherto undisturbed repose, began to be sorely assaulted. His relations now took a second alarm. “They thought (says he) That I was turned heretic altogether.” To forsake the church of Rome, and declare himself a member of the church of England, was bad enough, and with them matter of much displeasure; but to become a Methodist beside!¹ This they judged the very consummation of apostacy, and gave him up as undone for ever. And it was not only his kindred, who so judged of him, “But (adds he) my neighbours in general were like-minded with my relations, and not only those of the church of Rome; but several likewise who called themselves Protestants. They were extremely angry that I should, as they called it, ‘change my religion.’”

“And now did I see plainly, that persons of every denomination, who are yet in their sins, under the guilt and power of them, are at enmity against Christ. And that Protestants, as well as Papists, have naturally a spirit of calumny and persecution.” Alas, names and opinions, what are they? They do not, cannot alter the nature of men or things; and experience abundantly shews, how little influence they have over ♦the tempers and life of the generality of mankind. “Reformed and unreformed (adds he) I found it to be just alike; and that many who spoke against the Pope and Inquisition were themselves in reality of the same spirit.”

“When I was first converted, I had no notion that people could hate, and speak evil of me, for fearing God, and working righteousness.¹ But experience has taught me otherwise, I soon found the truth of the apostle’s words, That all who will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution, (2 Timothy iii. 12.) relations, acquaintance, and neighbours, rich and poor, old and young, clergy and laity, were all against me. Some said I was an hypocrite; others that I was mad; others, judging more favourably, that I was deceived. Many that before thought well; yea, highly of me, knew not how to harbour a good thought of me.”

But when God speaks powerfully to the heart, the sentiments and words of men, be they flattering or threatning, make but little impression. He was therefore so far from being moved by this treatment, that it became to him, rather a confirmation of the doctrine of the Son of God, who says, expressly, Wo unto you, when all men shall speak well of you; and blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil of you falsely for my name-sake.

“Of a truth the world lieth in the wicked one. And they who are after the flesh, will hate and persecute them that are after the Spirit. The devil hates Christ and his children. It is the Spirit of Christ in his children, which that evil spirit in the children of disobedience so violently opposes. The spirit of the world lusteth to envy. The devil envied Adam; so did Cain his brother Abel: and as it has been of old time, so it is at this day. Light can have no communion with darkness, neither Christ with Belial. In this respect, there is nothing new under the sun; but that which hath been, is the thing that is. The true worshippers of God, under the old Testament, and the sincere disciples of Christ, under the new, have been evil treated by those among whom they lived. They hated them, because their works were righteous. And so it is even now.”

CHAPTER XI.

His providential appointment to labour for the good of his neighbour, by preaching the gospel.

HE had from his first thorough awakening, a love to, and concern for the souls of others. The same cause which made him so solicitous for his own salvation, produced in him a tender sympathy for the souls of his neighbours, and the apprehensions he had of his own danger, impelled him to warn others also. The hand of God was, no doubt, in this, as well as in the whole series of his preceeding conversion. His adorable wisdom, had appointed him an instrument of saving souls from endless misery; having first prepared him for it (without his knowledge of any such design) by the hell, and heaven, so to speak, of his own experience.

Even before he had obtained mercy, he began to warn others, exhorting all, with whom he had any sort of intercourse, to flee from the wrath to come. Thus (as he observes) “while I was in unbelief myself, I sometimes forgot my own condition through eagerness of desire for the salvation of other souls.”

Mean time it was frequently impressed upon his mind, “You must preach the gospel. Thou shalt bear public testimony to the truth of God,” by openly declaring his loving kindness, in the redemption of the world. But he often resisted the thought, urging the impossibility thereof, from a variety of considerations, and saying in effect, Send by whom thou wilt send; but send not me.

Indeed, though he might have never so much desired it, in submission to the will of God; nevertheless, when the thought first presented itself to him, being a conscious unbeliever, he might have justly said, and it was the language of his heart,

Influenced by these kinds of considerations, he could not, while he remained himself under the bondage, think of publishing peace and liberty to others. But the case was, in some degree altered, after he had tasted that the Lord is gracious. He was then drawn out more abundantly with love to souls, and his conviction became still stronger, that he must preach Christ Jesus to the people.

This put him upon earnest prayer, and frequent fastings, to know, assuredly, the will of God, in a matter, which he rightly judged of so great moment. “I prostrated myself before the Lord (says he) and intreated him, to shew me his pleasure herein; to convince me by his holy spirit, whether the thoughts of my heart were according to his holy will, and, whether I ought to speak in his name; or if I was under a delusion, to shew me this also, and deliver me from it. I could appeal to the searcher of hearts, that I desired only to glorify him and do his will in all things.” He conducted himself in it with all possible secresy; being even then persuaded, that the affairs of God are to be carried on without noise; and that no ostentation should be used even in forsaking all to serve Christ, in this or any other way. And yet to see him employed always for God, spending his time only in reading, writing, exhorting others, and in profound meditation, it was easy to imagine that he either projected something for God’s glory, more than could be executed by him in private; or, at least, that whether he had any such design, or not, God meant it concerning him.

He still kept the affair within his own breast having mentioned it to no one person whatsoever; till from some words he occasionally dropped, one day among his brethren, one of them gathered, that he had some thoughts of that kind. At length it became matter of much and earnest prayer, among the most serious of his Christian acquaintance, with whom, afterwards, he held frequent conversations on the head; being fearful of taking one step in a matter of so great importance, without the clearest intimations of the divine good-pleasure.

He well knew that to engage in the endeavour of saving souls from death, was to commence war with Satan, and all the sons of disobedience; nevertheless, being at length persuaded of the will of God, and not knowing how soon he might be in another world, the great concernment of miserable souls, prevailed with him to engage in it; concluding that if but one or two persons, might by his means be won to God, it would recompense any treatment he might meet with in the world. He was fully disposed to sacrifice his reputation, as well as life, to advance the kingdom of the Son of God.

He judged that the knowledge of languages, and other branches of human literature, are highly expedient, and in some cases necessary; but that however, they are not absolutely so, in order to qualify a man for preaching the gospel with success. He knew that he might understand sound doctrine, and hold fast a form of sound speech, without the knowledge of either Latin, Greek, or Hebrew. He nevertheless, at no time spoke disrespectfully of learning: quite the contrary; but yet perceived with adoration the truth of St. Paul’s words, with reference to the divine œconomy, in the management of the affairs of his kingdom: After that in the wisdom of God; according to his wise disposals, leaving them to make the trial, the world, whether Jewish or Gentile, by all their boasted Wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe. (1 Corinthians i. 21.)

He well knew by this time, that it is the inspiration of the Almighty, giving heavenly understanding, which only, avails here; that the most shining abilities, natural or acquired, without the wisdom that is from above, and the anointing of the Holy Ghost, are, in the account of God, in respect of bringing sons to glory, lighter than vanity; nor better than sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. In fact, that the learning of the world, used otherwise, than in subservience to the true interests of Jesus Christ, in teaching, and vindicating simplicity, and purity of heart, and subjection in life to him, rather feeds the pride of human understanding, and makes a person more like Satan than he would be without it: but that rightly used, it is a good gift of God, and greatly conducive to his glory.

Indeed from his earliest days, he did not neglect any means which was in his power, for the cultivating his understanding. But he now set himself to this point; impelled as it were thereto from his being more abundantly pressed in spirit, concerning the matter which he had so long in debate with himself; which was now, every day, more plain to him. He therefore applied with all diligence to what he judged the most suitable studies; in which he spent the greatest part of his waking hours. The word of life had however, the chief share of his attention. He made this his one, favourite study and delight, from this time especially, till he could work no longer.

He read it much upon his knees, in the spirit of prayer. The following is a specimen only, of his continued practice, “Lord Jesus, I lay my soul at thy feet to be taught and governed by thee. Take the veil from the mystery, and shew me the truth as it is in thyself. Be thou my sun and star, by day and by night!” This was the way in which he sought for wisdom to win souls, and by which his profiting so visibly appeared to all men.

His increasing knowledge in the things of God, was an additional confirmation to him, of the divine appointment concerning him. The hidden treasures, and depth of truth in God’s word; his mysterious wisdom in the methods of salvation, were every day, more and more clearly revealed to him. The sealed book was now opened, and thereby, through the assistance of the Spirit of truth, his judgment grew clearer, and stronger, in the fundamental doctrines of repentance, justification and holiness. He professes that, if at any time he was in doubt concerning any point of doctrine, or the sense of any passage of scripture, his divine instructor convinced him, that either it was not needful for him to know it then; or if it was, directed him, either immediately by himself, through some divine impression, or the providential provision of some person or book, whereby his doubts were always solved.

The concern which he felt for the salvation of his neighbour still increased upon him, and a burning desire that every body might be as happy in the Lord Jesus, as he felt himself, engrossed all his thoughts. “The Spirit of God (says he) now convinced me clearly, not only of sin and of righteousness in my own soul, but likewise, how the work of conversion is to be carried on in the souls of others. I was athirst for divine knowledge. I desired to be ever in the school of Christ, learning the lessons of his grace. The glory of the Lord often passed before me in prayer, and the light of eternity shone upon my soul, while my Lord fed me as with marrow and fatness!”

CHAPTER XII.

He begins to preach.

WHAT he had done hitherto, with reference to the conversion of souls, was only as necessity obliged him. The peace, and perfection of his own soul, being his main object of concern, till providence, having designed him for the ministry of the gospel, put him upon more extensive measures for promoting the kingdom of Christ.

He began to consider more nearly, that souls having cost our Saviour so dear, nothing could be done more acceptable to him than to prevent their loss; and that the glory of God’s majesty, did most shine in the salvation of sinners purchased with the blood of his Son. These considerations kindled in him such love to mankind, that he could no longer refrain from exhorting, first his Christian brethren, with all fervour, to devote their hearts without reserve to God; and next, every soul with whom he had any sort of intercourse. His heart bled for poor careless sinners against God, and their own souls. The word of the Lord was in him, so that he could not but speak. He knew not how to forbear publishing as on the house top, that infinite love which dealt so graciously with himself. “It is not enough that I serve our Lord: all hearts must love him, and all tongues must praise him!”

God touched his heart in such a manner as to leave no doubt whether this appointment was from heaven; and the concurrence of outward providences confirmed his internal persuasion. Thus, freed from all farther wavering and irresolution, he entered upon that employment, which he verily believed, he would wish he had done at the hour of death, and in the day of judgment.

Desirous therefore to exercise his Lord’s talent, and the time affording a providential provision for it, even out of the ordinary way; he took the opportunity of his present connexions, and without looking farther, pursued the following measures. “I opened, (says he) my mind to that man of God, the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. I spoke my thoughts freely, and without disguise, desiring his advice on the occasion; which he sweetly and humbly gave me: adding withal, that I might write to him afterwards. I did so, giving him a brief account of my conversion to God, and of what I experienced in my soul concerning preaching. His answer was as follows,

“My dear brother,

“It is hard to judge what God has called you to, till trial is made. Therefore when you have an opportunity, you may go to Shronil, and spend two or three days with the people there. Speak to them in Irish.”

Shronil is a village in the county of Tipperary, distant from the place he then resided at New-Market, about thirty English miles. The inhabitants, many of whom were Protestant Dissenters, had sometime before gladly received the word of God from the Methodists. Thither he went, accompanied by one of his own brothers, and another of his Christian brethren; having been commended to the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the earnest prayers of several of the children of God. “We walked it, (says he) and gave ourselves to prayer, conversing of the things of the kingdom of heaven, and exhorting those we met with in the way to fear the Lord, and depart from evil.”

They arrived there the next day, which was in July 1750. The brethren received them kindly in the Lord, though they were unknown to them by face. And having had knowledge of his errand, and informed their neighbours, there assembled in the evening, a considerable congregation, to whom, for the first time, he preached the word of God, choosing for his text, the words of St. Paul, Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law.

He did so again the next morning, on Being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, (Romans v. 1.) and in like manner, morning and evening, during the few days he stayed among them.

And the Lord bore testimony to the word of his grace. For although some, (as has always been the case,) contradicted and mocked, yet others were deeply affected, and some were turned to the Lord, “So gracious was God (as he adds) to own the labour of his poor creature, and to bless the word of his weakest and meanest messenger. Not unto me, but unto thy name be the glory! O God, thou hast done the work. Thou didst give the word, and didst also apply it; for thou only canst turn the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just. O my God, stand by me still; and as hitherto thou hast helped me, never leave nor forsake me: but keep my soul in peace, and give me a humble, and a meek spirit. Let me labour diligently in thy vineyard, and spend my life and strength in the labour of love. Amen, Lord Jesus!”

Thus have we brought to a conclusion what was proposed in this first part; having seen him from his youth, through the various travels of his soul, the whole process of his conversion, till his heart being at liberty, he began to publish the voice of wisdom to all around him. It remains, to give some account of his labours, trials, and success in the Lord’s work, together with the general tenor of his experience, till God was pleased to call him hence.

PART II.

CHAPTER I.

Of his entire application to preaching the gospel.

IT being now, no longer matter of doubt, what the will of God was concerning him; trial having been made, and the fruit answering to the design, he resolved to defer no longer, stirring up the gift of God which was in him. Setting aside therefore every other concern, and employment, he devoted himself entirely to the work of which he believed God had assigned him. He set out with a resolution to give himself up wholly to the dictates of the Holy Ghost, and to be ready to go what way soever the voice of heaven should call him. And that his understanding might not be dissipated, and scattered upon divers objects, and so have less force to enter deep into the things of God, he began his work with applying himself altogether to the study of the holy scriptures, and to prayer. And the proficiency which by those means he made daily, in the wisdom that is from above, quickly appeared. He truly laboured in the word, and faithfully and fervently enforced the divine truths he learned there from. His soul became strangely enlarged in labours of love for the salvation of his neighbour; while he imparted to them abundantly what God had so richly, and so freely bestowed upon him.

The words of our Lord Jesus Christ were in general exceeding precious to him; and from his first acquaintance with them, his whole delight and his counsellors. The whole of his following conduct to his death, seemed influenced by those words of Christ (applicable to all real Christians) Ye are the salt of the earth. Ye are the light of the world. A city set upon an hill cannot be hid: neither do men (much less God) light a candle, to put it under a bushel, that is, hide it; but on a candlestick, that it may give light to all about it.

And now, the divine providence concurring with his convictions and inclination, made his way clear, to put into execution what he had been so long deliberating upon. Conferring therefore no longer with flesh and blood, and resolving to deny himself, and take up his cross to follow Jesus, he bid farewel to his kindred, and to his acquaintance in general. Choosing the Lord for his sole portion, he literally left all, and went out into the wide world, entirely unanxious about what he should eat, or what he should drink, or wherewithal he should be cloathed, being fully persuaded, that an entire reliance on God was all things. He went to spend his life in beseeching sinners to be reconciled to God. Thus,

This was about the latter end of August 1750, when going from the place of his nativity to Limerick, he had daily opportunity of publishing those glad tidings, which he first heard in that city, and which became the power of God to his salvation. At first, he commonly expounded the scriptures every morning: and after a little while, both evening and morning, with much earnestness exhorted and besought multitudes, who attended his discourses, to seek the Lord while he may be found.

And it pleased God immediately to bear testimony to the word of his grace by him. Several persons who heard him, and who, till then, had been careless and utterly unconcerned about the matter, became seriously concerned for their salvation; while in the mean time others, who had been deeply distressed with the guilt of sin, felt his word, the power of God unto salvation.

He was about this time called to bear reproach for his work’s sake. The minds of some persons became evil affected towards him. The interests of the God of this world, had already suffered loss by his zeal, and unwearied diligence, and they were in danger of suffering yet more. Satan therefore by every means endeavoured to prevent the fruit of his labours.

His unpolished youth; his roughness both of address and dialect, owing partly to natural temper, partly to having been brought up much in the country, and partly to his having been formerly of the church of Rome¹; but more than all, his being a native of that neighbourhood, gave some persons occasion for being deeply offended at him, who expressed it by their unkind, and uncivil treatment towards him. This I had from some of the persons themselves, a considerable time after, who mentioned it to their own reproach, that he, whom then they so loved and honoured was nevertheless, once the object of their scorn.

But as he sought not his own things, neither strove to please man, having in view only the glory of God, and the good of souls, this did not in the least damp his fervour, or retard his progress. As he saw daily the fruit of his labours, so he was not to be hindered, or discouraged by any treatment of himself; rather he rejoiced in contempt for his master’s sake.

He had put his hand to the plough (Luke ix. 62.) and having counted the cost, settled it in his heart not to look back. He waxed still stronger, and grew every day more mighty in the scriptures, and in conformity to our Lord, as well as more instrumental in bringing others acquainted with the only true God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ.

There are many instances of the good effects of these his first labours. It plainly appeared that the word of God in his mouth was attended with the power of the Holy Ghost. It was not an uncommon case, for persons to be so penetrated by his fervent discourses, as to resolve not to leave the place, till they should find rest in their souls, and the instances were not a few, to whom the God of love condescended even in this particular by sending then the Spirit of adoption into their hearts, testifying Thy sins are forgiven; and enabling them to cry Abba Father.

His time was now wholly taken up in searching, expounding, and enforcing the scriptures, which he did both in public and in private; and prayer, visiting the sick, and whatsoever other particular employments occasional, or stated, had any relation to his one purpose of spending, and being spent in the service of his master. And having been thus employed at Limerick for some time, it was judged expedient, that he should go and preach the gospel in other places also.

CHAPTER III.

Some farther account of the trouble he met with on account of preaching the gospel.

OUR Saviour, said of his kingdom, If it were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered into your hands. Satan on the contrary, is said to be the prince, and god of this world. And how numerous are his poor vassals! When therefore his servants perceive their master’s kingdom in danger, they do fight, lest it should be subjected to its rightful Lord.

And hence only can be accounted for that opposition, which this servant of Christ, burning with desire to promote his kingdom, met with among most denominations of Christians, so called, wherever he came. Some, it is true, in almost every place, received the word gladly; while others not only did not regard it, but treated him with unkindness, even to abusive language, blows, or imprisonment.

The following instance, and which was the occasion of my first knowledge of him, happened in the town of my nativity, about twenty miles from the city of Cork.

At the repeated request of some of the inhabitants, he went thither accompanied by a few friends from the town of Bandon, June 11, 1752. The magistrate, who was also rector of the parish, the Rev. Mr. William Ellis, was applied to for the use of the market-house; which being refused, it was proposed, that he should preach at a small distance from the town. Thither he went accompanied by multitudes to whom, under the canopy of heaven, near a spacious strand, and shaded by a spreading tree, he affectionately declared the gospel of the grace of God.

By the time he had got to the place appointed, the magistrate, had sent his serjeants to forbid him preaching, “But being (to use his own words) of the opinion, that it was better to obey God than man,” he stept up upon a table prepared for that purpose, and immediately opening his little bible read to them, Job xxi. 3. Suffer me that I may speak, and after that I have spoken, mock on. The seasonable singularity of the text, so excited their attention, that they permitted him to finish quietly.

The word was with power. Several faces were turned to paleness and wet with tears, while he urged it home upon the conscience, that our sins were the betrayers and murderers of the Son of God.

On his return into the town, he was seized by the officers, and brought before the magistrate, followed by an astonished multitude. Being asked many and various questions concerning this way, he answered fully, and without fear. The conversation lasted near an hour, in which he largely explained himself, giving the reasons of his conduct; and alledging in its behalf, precedents both from scripture and from antiquity.

But Mr. Ellis, having predetermined what he would do, was not to be moved by arguments. He therefore let him know, that unless he would promise to preach no more in this way, at least not in those parts, he should be committed to prison without delay. He replied, “That as he had been so earnestly importuned to come there, he could not, in conscience, promise not to come;” and asked, “Are there no swearers, drunkards, sabbath-breakers, and the like, in those parts?” Being answered, “There are.” He added, that if after he had preached there a few times, there appeared to be no reformation among them, he would never come thither more. But this not satisfying, he was ordered to prison. He went thither with all readiness, and esteemed it matter of thanksgiving, that his Lord counted him worthy, to suffer reproach for his name’s-sake.

Several persons accompanied him into the prison, where, he, with his friends, sang praises to God, and exhorted the people. The street was crouded, some saying one thing, and some another; in general however, they were displeased at his confinement; and almost the whole town seemed concerned in his behalf. He still (as far as his voice would reach) preached to them thro’ the window.

The inhabitants shewed the utmost civility towards him; and not knowing how long he might be confined, provided bedding and provision for him and his companions. But it was not long before the magistrate sent to let him go. Coming out, and seeing such a number of people, he would fain, have preached to them; but was dissuaded by his friends. He then went to a private room, and exhorted till ten o’clock, as many as came to him.

He went thither twice afterwards, and tho’ with much contradiction, preached to them that gospel, which is the power of God unto salvation. His endeavours were not all lost. There are to this hour some of the fruit of his labours in that place; persons to whom, because of the blessing which God made him to their souls, his memory will be ever precious.

The following instance happened in the north of Ireland, some time after, at a place called New-Town, whether he went on the Lord’s day.

At the desire of several persons, he intended to have preached in a place called the Church Green, where were assembled, a large company to hear him. But while his hands were lifted up in prayer, there came one Mr. Mortimer, a presbyterian, and with him several hundred persons, who taking hold of him by the breast, pulled him with violence to the ground. They hauled him thro’ the mob, and had well nigh choaked him, when one Mr. Biers freed him from the hands of him who held him. But for this he was soon struck to the ground himself.

Being got free, it grieved him exceedingly to see such a willing multitude disappointed; so he went to a place at some distance from the former. But here likewise, by the time he had begun, the same persons pursued him. Perceiving therefore that it was vain to attempt preaching, he retired to a little house in a garden, at some small distance. But neither here could he be at rest; the mob followed, and to avoid their fury, he was obliged to wade thro’ wet meadows, and then climb over the mountains, till ‘wet and weary, we (he had one person with him) came to the house of one Mr. Ambey, who supplied us with all we wanted.’ His tender, broken constitution could not however, endure this fatigue, without feeling its effects. He was obliged in a few days to take to his bed, where a fever confined him for some time.

It need not be dissembled, that the authors of this outrage towards a stranger, chargeable with no crime save that of endeavouring to save souls from death, were a company of Presbyterians! But alas! what are names? “Liberty of conscience, and right of private judgement,” are good and specious words. But how reconcilable they are to such conduct as this let all the world judge.

The state of his heart, on that occasion, he expresses thus. “In the midst of it all, my mind was calm. I had no remarkable consolation, or fear, or sorrow. I prayed for them, and do still pray God to forgive them, and not lay this sin to their charge.”

I pass over a number of other instances of the opposition he met with, of a private as well as public nature; and only mention these, as a specimen of the malice which Satan bears to God’s kingdom, and servants.

CHAPTER IV.

A short account of the endeavours of the Romish clergy, to prevent his usefulness among their people. The means he made use of to instruct them, and the success which he met with therein.

NOTWITHSTANDING the strict laws which are in force, to prevent the propagation of Popery in these kingdoms, and to restrain the attempts of Romish priests and jesuits; it is no secret, that both in Ireland and England, their endeavours, are as unwearied as ever. They compass sea and land all round the globe, and hardly stick at any thing that may contribute towards their making proselytes.

The endeavours of this servant of Christ, to convert to him members of that communion, stirred up their clergy against him wherever he came. His name was well known in all their churches; and in whatsoever place there appeared but a probability of his coming, the priests took care, to render him as obnoxious to the people as they possibly could; insomuch, that they stuck at nothing, though never so false, to compass their end. They however carefully avoided his having opportunity to talk with themselves. I do not find that from the time of his leaving their communion, he had ever any settled personal interviews with them, although for the sake of their poor ignorant people, for whom he had the tenderest compassion, he has frequently desired it; sometimes even in public. One ♦occasional conversation only, with one of their priests, on board a ship, in a passage from England to Dublin, he relates, as follows, “We discoursed on the following particulars. 1. The Pope’s infallibility. 2. Transubstantiation. 3. Invocation of saints. 4. Purgatory. But he could not withstand the force of plain scripture, and therefore withdrew. The company were greatly pleased to find, how little the Romish clergy have to say for themselves, when opposed by arguments taken from scripture and reason.”

In one place, (C――l) the priest informed his congregation, (to such low shifts were they driven) and industriously spread abroad, “that he had been a servant boy to a certain priest, and that having stolen his master’s books, he learned to preach by that means.”

The conduct of another of them at Cork, was still more extraordinary. There was in that place a vast resort of Catholics (so called) to his sermons, which were often under the open firmament, as well as daily within doors, both in Irish and English; and among the Romanists, who were happily stirred up thereby to a concern for their salvation, there was one elderly woman, who had been in some religious office among them. She entirely forsook their communion, constantly attended his sermons, and thenceforward, received the Lord’s supper in the church of England.

The Romish priests became strangely irritated, and laboured vehemently to stop the growing evil; to which end, one of them affirmed to the people, that “As to that Walsh, who had some time before turned heretic, and went about preaching, he had been dead long ago: and that he, who then preached in this manner, was but the devil in his shape.”

But their endeavours, proved in great measure ineffectual; for, however a few persons might receive ill impressions from such insinuations; yet several of their communion in many places heard him gladly, and would not be hindered therefrom. Rather, the more the priests urged them, they prevailed the less. His labours, and prayers, and tears, for their poor straying souls, over whom his bowels so often yearned, had, on many the desired effect; being thereby, not only reformed from Popery, but really converted to God.

Of the common natives of Ireland, it has been frequently observed, that of all the natives of the globe, there are none who exceed them for hospitality, good nature, and susceptibility of religious impressions. It might well therefore, occasion the ‘yearning of the bowels’ of this lover of souls, to see such multitudes of them detained in total ignorance by their priests, to whom they pay the most implicit obedience.

*And hence it was, that from the beginning of the concern which he felt for his own soul, he set himself, by all possible means to turn them from darkness to light. And whither in the highways, at inns, in the city or country, he let slip no probable means of instructing them. One circumstance which is much more common in Ireland than England, I mean the number of street beggars, furnished him with frequent opportunities of this kind.

His manner of addressing them was easy and familiar: talking to them always in a stile suited to their capacity and prejudices. He avoided entirely the difference of churches, and all matter of dispute, speaking only of the dreadful evil of sin, the great affairs of eternal life, and eternal death, of judgment, and of the sufferings and sacrifice of the Son of God. And his discourses had often such immediate effect, that falling on their knees, and smiting their breasts, they have wept, and cried for mercy, in the open streets. He always concluded his instructions with giving them money, if he had it, which indeed was not always the case.

It would be tedious to enumerate all the conversations, and various intercourses which he had with members of that communion, and the good effects which were produced by them. Two or three only, may be related from his own accounts.

“This day ―― came to my room. I asked him, how he hoped to be saved? And having talked together in Irish for some time, he became greatly affected, and said, ‘I have saved some money to leave to some Priest or Friar when I die, in order to procure me the forgiveness of my sins, and I am willing to leave it to you, if you will accept of it.’ I told him, that no man could forgive his sins; that the gift of God was not to be purchased with money; and that only the blood of Christ, our great High-priest, could cleanse from sin. He was deeply wounded, and cried earnestly to God, to whom, after prayer I commended him.”

At another time he writes, “A poor woman, a papist, came to my room, desirous of salvation. I prayed with her in Irish. She frequently fell on her knees and cried for mercy, resolving no more to regard the priest’s curses, but to seek her salvation according as the word of God directs.”

Again, “Being on a journey, where I breakfasted (it was a Romanist’s) I reproved the landlord for swearing, and talked to all who were present. I exhorted likewise a woman at the door, to seek from God, repentance and salvation. She cried with amaze! To the blessed Virgin, and to the twelve apostles to help her. But I taught her to direct her prayers to God the Father, through the Lord Jesus Christ.”

*Beside his frequent occasional conversations with them, he went to as many of their own houses as he could get admittance, where he regarded the children and servants, even as the masters and mistresses.

But what most of all contributed to the success of his attempts for their good, was his public preaching, to which great numbers of them frequently resorted, wherever he came; induced thereto, chiefly by his preaching in Irish, and such things as they easily understood. There is in the Irish language a peculiarly affecting expressiveness, particularly with respect to the things of God; which, being pressed home upon the conscience, by his zealous and alarming way of preaching, often left them bathed in tears. I saw a very remarkable instance of this in the town of my nativity; preaching there on a market-day, many of the country people running with surprize to hear him, smote their breasts and wept, in such a manner as was entirely new to them, some affirming, that they could go all over the world with him! It may be truly said, he seldom preached a sermon in Irish, from which some of them did not receive advantage. He briefly mentions a few instances himself, as follows,

“After preaching both in Irish and English, a poor papist woman came to me, saying, ‘She came for instruction; for that as she was a poor woman, she could not have it elsewhere, and she wanted to save her soul.’ I told her, that all which was in my power, I would do for her willingly. She wept, and I prayed with her, pointing her for all her soul wanted, to Jesus, who alone is the way, the truth, and the life.”

*Again, “January 4, 1751. My soul was delighted to see with what earnestness the poor Irish, (meaning the Romanists) received the word, being in general deeply affected. O how did they weep, and cry for mercy! May God hear their prayer. Surely this people will rise up in judgment against Protestants, who having the light of the gospel, either neglect or despise it. And also against the pastors of this ignorant people, who hold them in error. O, what have the Romish clergy to answer for before God!”

“April, 1751. Many of them professed after preaching, that they received more benefit from that one sermon, than from all the masses they had attended during their whole life.”

At another time preaching concerning the good Samaritan (Luke x. 30.) “Two members of the church of Rome were deeply convinced of their want of a Saviour, and thirty-four persons joined themselves together, to seek and serve the Lord.”

“Friday, May 8. I conversed with a woman who was formerly of the church of England, but had been seduced by the Romish priests. She was convinced of her error and returned. To God be the glory.”

“After preaching on John i. 17. Sinners cried out mightily. One came confessing her deeds and said, She had lived an adultress, worse than Mary Magdalen; she wept, trembled and roared aloud.”

The circumstance of his preaching and speaking in Irish, (a thing that multitudes, at least of protestants in Ireland cannot do) next to the singular blessing of God upon his labours, contributed most to the success of his endeavours. Though it is observable that when he preached one day in Irish, on Oxmon-Town-Green in Dublin, among those who were affected by the discourse, there was one man cut to the heart, although he did not, at all understand the language.

In a journey once between Cork and Bandon, he fell into conversation with a man who rode some miles with him, till as was his constant manner, he began to apply something to his heart, concerning the worth of his soul, and the way of salvation. But he favouring not the things of God, became ♦grievously offended. “His prejudice in short ran so high, that he declared, although he were shot for it, he would have satisfaction; adding with an oath, thou shalt never deceive another, for I am resolved to be the death of you just now.”

“I was quiet in my mind, being persuaded that the God of Daniel was still the same, I did not feel the least anger, or rising of revenge towards him; and still reproved him whenever he swore. In the midst of his rage I reproved him in Irish. He was instantly amazed; and replied, ‘Why did you not speak so to me in the beginning?’ The lion became a lamb, and I then let him know still speaking in Irish, what Christ had done for sinners. He departed with a broken heart.”

When some of them once followed him after preaching, desirous of instruction. “I told them (says he) as to religion that it was not a bare profession that would avail any one.—That the true way, was to forsake sin and follow Christ; and that in order thereto, it was needful that a person should, 1st. Be poor in spirit; feel that he is a sinner. 2dly, Mourn on that account with a broken and contrite heart. 3dly, Forsake sin by applying to the Lord for strength. 4thly, Believe in Christ, and him only for salvation; as it is his blood alone, that cleanseth from all unrighteousness: and 5thly, Obey the gospel by conforming to the rules there laid down; living soberly, righteously, and godly in the present world.”

This was the sum of what he taught them from time to time, as the way of salvation, which, explained and enforced by the holy scriptures, he opposed to every other device, or tradition of men. And so zealously concerned was he for enforcing these truths wherever he came, that to one, amidst a great number of Romanists, whose attention some endeavoured to hinder, he said, “If my doctrine be not according to the word of God, stone me on the spot. Make a sacrifice of me: only hear for yourselves.”

“O that God would call them to the knowledge of the gospel of peace, and open to them a door of salvation. Open Lord the eyes of their priests. Remember the purchase of thy blood, nor suffer those poor souls to perish, for whom Christ hath died.”

CHAPTER V.

He goes to England and labours there.

THE enlargement of soul, with which it pleased God to bless him, left no bounds to his desires, of spreading the favour of the knowledge of Jesus, in every place: and his providential connexions, afforded him a large sphere of action. The people with whom he was more immediately united, and who were, according to the divine disposals, the instruments of his salvation, had now, through the blessing of heaven, spread the joyful sound, well nigh all over England, and Ireland. And hence arose a necessity for many labourers.

It was therefore judged expedient that, (having been successfully employed between two and three years in his native country) he should go to England likewise: to which only the conviction of its being the will of God, could have ♦reconciled him; feeling what was natural on the occasion, “A struggle within himself on leaving his friends and country.”

May 10. 1753. He embarked at Dublin with some other friends, and the next day arrived at Park-gate. Concerning this voyage, and his arrival in England, he writes as follows. “There were on board several gentry, and officers, with a large number of cabbin passengers. They cursed, swore, and blasphemed as though they were in hell. I reproved them again and again; but they still persisted, and said I was mad. O God, if there never was any other damnation in the world to come, than the company of such wretches, who would not flee from it.”

London was the place where he was appointed chiefly to labour. He arrived there the 31st of May 1753, and preached his first sermon from 1 John ii. 1.

And now did he, more vigourously than ever, apply himself, both in public and in private, to the labour of his calling; resolving, in a place of such dangers, to make the best use of both. He found himself in the midst of a numerous and well instructed people, many of whom were deeply experienced in the things of God. This was to him matter of great joy, though at the same time of much carefulness, knowing, that in order to be truly profitable to them, a superficial acquaintance with things would but ill suffice. He therefore laboured to be a scribe well instructed; to be deeply and judiciously informed, in things pertaining to the kingdom of God. It was his daily and nightly study, how he might best contribute his part towards the feeding them with the sincere milk of the word, and the building them up in their most holy faith.

But neither did he here intermit his endeavours, for the salvation of his poor ignorant countrymen, (of whom great numbers, of the lower sort are constantly employed in London) still detained in that darkness, from which he had so happily escaped himself. He therefore appointed times for explaining to as many of them as would hear, the first principles of the doctrine of Christ; and preached several times in Irish, in Moor-fields, and elsewhere; endeavouring likewise, to have as many private interviews with them as he possibly could.

It was here he first formed to himself a more exact plan for the improvement of his time, with respect to his public and private capacity, as a preacher, and a christian, assigning determinate portions of it to certain employments, which unless when necessity required otherwise, he punctually observed. He preached constantly twice a day, and visited many people in their families; besides frequent attendance on the sick, and dying; from some of whom, he was rarely a day absent.

The abilities with which God had endowed him, and his faithful improvement of them, considerably encreased his work; for it seemed good to those, whom the divine wisdom had honoured, with the over sight, of a multitude of persons here, in their absence, to intrust him with that branch of their work. His exactness and submissive faithfulness therein, appeared in many and various particulars, of which a part only may be gathered from the following letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley.

“Honoured Sir,

“I Thank you for your letter. I longed exceedingly to hear from you.――Your account of the good woman in your Journal was refreshing to my soul. What I have to say is as follows,”

1. “Mr. Wesley is gone to Bristol. He met us on Monday mornings, and upon the whole, all was well. We parted much in love. 2. Mr. F―― goes on well. I converse with him when I can. 3. The Lord is powerfully carrying on his work. Sinners are alarmed, and saints edified. This day in visiting the sick, my soul was greatly comforted, by hearing of God’s dealings with their souls.

“On Monday I begin to change the tickets. God give me integrity, wisdom, meekness, and love. I think, considering these particulars, I cannot leave London yet. It seems providence keeps me here still.

“You have the prayers of your children. I don’t forget you. A son honoureth his father, and a father loveth his son. Let it be so till death, and the devil can get little advantage. Your preaching has been often, and exceedingly blest to my soul. My heart’s desire, and prayer to God is, that the Lord would make me partaker of his holiness.

“Dear Sir, I trust your soul will, in time, and in eternity, partake of that great salvation, you have preached in the name of the Lord. O may it please God, that we may meet full of holy and happy love! I feel my soul this moment strongly drawn after God; but there is yet something that keeps me out of perfect rest and liberty. Jesus, take my whole heart! Confound, overpower me with thy grace. Requesting your prayers and counsel, I remain,

“Your very affectionate son,

Thomas Walsh.”

London, April 30.

His advancement in divine knowledge, and in the divine life, while he remained here, became more and more visible. The fruit of his public ministry was likewise still more discernible; and the general tenor of his conduct was acceptable to the people. They had abundant evidence of his devotedness to God, and of his truly serving as a son in the gospel. He was generally blest to all kinds of hearers. His discourses were always of an awakening nature, entering into the very heart; and singularly calculated to assist, such as were ardently seeking after perfect love, (1 John iv. 17, 18.) and hereby, through the divine blessing, he became instrumental to such a revival of the work of God, as had not been known, as to its depth, from the first union of that society. Nor are there a few in London, who bless God that ever they heard his voice.

Thus did he spend the time of his abode in England, spreading the favour of his good ointment all around him, and by his example, as well as preaching, pressing every one to make sure work for eternity. He perceived clearly, it was the good providence of God which prepared his way, and directed him hither. He came from Ireland to London, three several times; the last of which the longest time of his continuing there, (about two years,) and the most profitable both to himself and to others. And here especially it was, that through his great and incessant labours; his unwearied application to private study and public ministrations, he laid the foundation of that disorder, which at length, removed him to another world.

CHAPTER VI.

His love to souls, and zeal for promoting the glory of God.

SOME account of his endeavours for the salvation of his neighbour, has already been given. But this being so considerable a part of his character, deserves a more full consideration: though it cannot be told, of how many and various expedients he served himself for the conversion of sinners.

He watched every opportunity; and was literally instant in season, out of season; that is continually, at all times and places, seeking how he might best accomplish the end, for which alone he desired to live.

The intenseness of his desire, and his application to this one thing, kept him continually as on the wing, spending, and being spent in this behalf; regarding neither reproach, pain, loss, nor death itself. “I have, said he, but one life, and it is a hard case if I cannot readily lose that for his sake, who gave his life a ransom for mine, and for the life of the world. My heart bleeds for the world which lieth in the wicked one.”

It was owing to this likewise, that he embraced every possible opportunity of crying aloud, in the most conspicuous places of public resort, and of enforcing the voice of wisdom, saying, How long ye simple ones will ye love simplicity, and scorners delight in scorning, and fools hate knowledge! Turn ye at my reproof; behold I will pour out my Spirit upon you, I will make known my words unto you.

*Mountains, market-places, highways, meadows, rooms, prisons, and ships, were the frequent theatres of his publishing the gospel of peace. And herein there appeared in him something next to marvellous, being a living fire, continually burning in the love of God and man; still mounting upwards, and kindling all that were capable about him; as prone to fervour and activity, as some are to cold and indolence. He was never weary of well-doing, nor ever spoke slightly, and with indifferent affection of the great God, and of the things of religion; but with a seriousness and reverence, becoming one who by faith saw the Invisible, and looked to be shortly with him!

*He was in truth a mighty adversary to the devil’s kingdom, and took every possible step, which he judged might, in any measure, promote the honour of God, to whose sole glory he sacrificed himself, with all his labours and studies. It is scarcely possible to enable a stranger to him to conceive, the flow of his soul, and energy of his spirit and expressions on these occasions; while he endeavoured by all means to save some. To this end, he truly imparted, not the gospel of God only, but likewise his own soul. It was this noble object which raised him above, even that attention to his body, which it required. It was truly said of him,

The fire which burned in his heart never said “It is enough.” And the success with which it pleased our Lord to prosper his labours, was a constant motive to his going forward. His designs of doing good were without limits, esteeming himself a debtor to all, and embracing in affection, not less than the whole world.

Riding through Wales and finding that, in many places they did not understand English, he felt great concern on the occasion, and formed a resolution, if his life and health permitted, to learn the Welch language.

And it was given him not only to believe, and therefore to speak for God; but also to suffer for his cause. But he rejoiced in his sufferings, and filled up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in his flesh.

Meantime the end, which he still kept in view, together with his frequent reflections, on the love of Jesus; the danger of sinners dying without conversion; and the present salvation to which they are entitled, thro’ the blood of the Lamb: made him more than superior to every thing which, either men, or the malice of Satan could invent against, or inflict upon him.

His warm heart and fervent courage, feared no danger in the discharge of his duty, being well assured that walking uprightly, he walked surely. He dreaded not the faces of men, but where occasion offered, boldly reproved what he saw amiss in every one. Wherever there appeared any probability of his doing good, he was never hindered by the prospect of danger.

In one place, having preached to a vast number of Romanists and others, and a prospect appearing of doing much good, he intended, to go again: but a report prevailed that if he attempted it; a great man would either have him stoned, or sent to jail. On this occasion “I reflected (says he) what God had done in former times for those who put their trust in him. And he gave me strength according to my day. I found my faith in him greatly strengthened, and resolved, simply to rely on his protection; not doubting but that he would stand by me. So I went thither and preached in the name of the Lord.

“The fear of man prevented their giving me entrance into their houses as before; so I stood on a chair in the street, and thanked God for the privilege. They received the word without disturbance, and with joy. On my return I prayed at two houses in the way, and the power of God was greatly in the midst of us. Praised be God, and the Lamb for ever!”

His labours were indeed much beyond his strength; and his zeal would not suffer him to stand still: so that his friends were obliged sometimes (as Origen’s mother, to prevent her young son’s burning with his father) to hide his cloaths, or lock him in his room in the morning.

*His whole conversation was like fire, warming, refreshing, and comforting all that were about him, and begetting in their souls a measure of the same zeal for the glory of God, and the salvation of sinners which burned in his own breast. It was not possible to be much with him, and not to hear discourses which bred a detestation of sin, and a love of holiness. To what purpose is it to live (seemed the motto of his life) and not to live to some good purpose?

His endeavours to do good, extended to children also. He first, introduced in many places the custom of meeting weekly, such of them as could attend, in order to instruct them in such truths, as their capacity admitted of. In doing this he desired their parents might be present likewise, to whom his affecting manner of address was not less serviceable, than to the children.

While in London, he had several interviews with the Jews, frequently attending their synagogues, and reasoning with them out of the Hebrew scriptures. And altho’ I cannot say with certainty that any of them were converted, yet, sure I am from eye witnesses, that they were not able to gain-say the power by which he spoke.

*When at any time he met any of his Christian acquaintance, in the street, or called at their houses passing by, he had always something to say by way of watch-word, which he left upon their minds. Such as, “Well, let us hold out a little longer! Are we pressing forward? Let us hold fast faith, and a good conscience. Are we watching now unto prayer, and pressing after perfect love?” I well remember one instance of the good effects of this, which a person mentioned to me since his death. “I shall never forget, says he, a word which Mr. Walsh, taking me by the hand one day, spoke to me in my shop, ’Tis worse than death, my God to love, and not my God alone.” It was like a nail in a sure place, and left a useful impression ever after. The gravity and earnestness, with which he delivered these kinds of little memento’s to his friends, carried them, by God’s help to the heart, and left them there. So that I have heard several of his sayings, in this way, called to remembrance, since his decease, by several of his acquaintance.

He did whatsoever he did for God, with all his might, spending his very life in every action, even as tho’ he should merit heaven thereby, and yet, at the same time despising himself as an unprofitable servant.

CHAPTER VIII.

His manner of preaching.

AT first his sermons consisted chiefly, of a number of well chosen texts of scripture, suited to the particular subject on which he treated, and which, he, for the most part, cited with both the chapter and verse. He had in this manner formed, as it were, a body of divinity in his head, which was a kind of store house of his sermons. Time and experience however, brought him off from the custom of, so particularly citing the places of the scriptures, he made use of; unless where he judged it singularly useful, both for the conviction and satisfaction of the hearers.

*A constant course of reading, much conversation with the children of God, and the acquaintance, which a life of faith, meditation and prayer, gave him with God, and with the motions of his own soul, greatly extended his views into divine things in general; and furnished him with variety of subjects for the edification and comfort of the church of God: so that in the last two or three years of his course, his sermons had in them depth, and solidity, far beyond those of his former years.

The state of his own heart, had much influence on the particular subjects of his sermons: as is surely the case with all, to whom preaching is not a mere business of course: but on the contrary, an affair of the weightiest importance in the world, requiring the deepest attention and most circumspect walking. He knew that the words of an unfeeling heart, are but empty sounds; and that although they might please for the present, they rarely profit the hearers. And it was on this account, that attending constantly to the motions of his own soul, he hardly ever preached a sermon, without conveying nearly the like sensations to others, whether of deep contrition of spirit, holy mourning, or spiritual joy, which he felt in his own soul.

“When, says he, I am in heaviness, I am led to speak chiefly of trials; when lively and fervent, I am led to speak of the comforts of believers; and when I am hungering and thirsting after righteousness, I press upon others to cleanse themselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, and to perfect holiness. And hence I learn, 1st. How needful it is for a preacher to be in a right spirit himself, whenever he speaks to others. And, 2dly, The wisdom of God, in so ordering, that every soul might receive its portion of the milk of the word in due season.”

*All his sermons might be truly said to be his own from God. He stole not the word from his neighbour, nor catched at trivial incidents to furnish him with an hour’s discourse. His heart was a treasury well furnished, insomuch that he was never at a loss for something in season: even sometimes when he has been so taken up with other parts of his calling, as not to have the least time for preparing to preach; yet the pourings out of his feeling soul, evidenced themselves to waiting hearts, to be of God.

*There was nothing whining, light, or trivial in his discourses; nothing put on; nothing that could excite levity, much less laughter; but rather, and which was commonly the case, groans and tears and cries. His sermons had in them such a depth of divine truth, confirmed by the word of God, with such a greatness and majesty as begot in the hearers an awe and reverence, which removed far away, all petulancy and thoughtless irreverence of spirit: and produced in many a solemnity and attention of soul, becoming those who hear discourses for life, or death eternal. To all of which, his grave and mortified countenance, contributed not a little. In short his whole behaviour in the pulpit was such, as became a messenger of God, put in trust with the ministry of reconciliation.

His discourses were suited to give a portion to everyone, as their need required; milk for babes, and for stronger men, stronger meat: though still they had this tendency, with regard to all, to excite people’s hearts to the pure love of God. *And although he preached faith in Christ as the only way, of obtaining all the good things of grace and glory, yet he did it in such a manner as effectually to guard it against the abuse of libertines, who turn the freeness of the grace of God, into an occasion of wantonness; who while they promise liberty to others, are, at the same time servants of corruption. Persons of this character could not in the least serve themselves from his discourses; in every one of which he so preached faith in Christ, as to establish the law, in its true sense, that is, to secure all the interests of genuine holiness, both in heart and life; all the fruits of righteousness; the most rigorous regard to mens duty to God, their neighbour, and themselves.

When he first began to preach, his chief talent seemed to be for quickening such as were dead in trespasses and sins; for terrifying careless sinners with the dread of God’s judgments, alarming them, as it were, to flee from the wrath to come. It was ♦truly said of him,

His courage and resolution in this, were such as are rarely to be found. He judged, that there was nothing more likely to pull down the strong holds of Satan, than to lay the axe to the root of sin; and in all his sermons, he ever used to discover its detestable nature, pressing upon the conscience, an entire purgation from dead works. And he did it in such a manner as often pierced the very joints and marrow of his hearers.

It was easy to discover in him likewise, the utmost impartiality. Knowing that he was to deliver his Lord’s message, he spared no man from any human regards: but boldly detecting their sin, commended himself to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.

And yet, his zeal was tempered with wisdom and discretion for notwithstanding his pressing vehemently upon the conscience of his hearers, in all his sermons, yet (although some were sometimes offended) they were never able to resist the authority by which he spake.

But it was not as a Boanerges, a son of thunder only, that he excelled. His own happy experience, of the forgiving, healing, and comforting virtue of the blood of Jesus; together with his mighty acquaintance with the promises of life in him, fitted him for administring comfort, and much encouragement to the weary, and the heavy-laden with sin; To such, he was in truth, a son of consolation; his lips dropped sweetness to them, as the honey-comb.

*O God, how many a bleeding wound hast thou made him an instrument of healing, by pouring into the hearts of the disconsolate, the wine and oil of the gospel, in a rich profusion of those precious, golden promises, which being ratified to us by the holy blood of thy dear Son, are all yea, and amen in him, to thine eternal glory! Yes,

*It was scarcely possible for the most icy, and rocky heart, to remain long so under his moving and authoritative discourse, laid home to the conscience, by the sword of the Spirit, which, like the flaming sword in paradise, turned every way, to every heart. And accordingly, it was a very rare thing for him ever to preach a sermon, without sending some away, either broken-hearted, rejoicing in God, or increased more or less, in the knowledge of the Crucified.

*Towards the latter part of his progress, the two last years of his life especially, the whole bent of his soul, his reading, meditations, prayer, conversation and preaching, tended altogether, to the deep things of God, (1 Corinthians ii. 10.) the so perfectly loving him, with all the capacity of the soul and body, as the state of humanity can admit. The entire salvation of God, from all sin, to all the mind that was in Christ Jesus, was now his constant, and most beloved theme, both in public and private. And he omitted nothing which might either inform his judgment, or affect his own, or the hearts of others, in reference to this most interesting concern of the children of God.

*His thoughts on the head became therefore thoroughly digested; so that there was hardly an objection which either Satan, men, or the heart of unbelief could bring against it, for which he had not a convincing answer. His own heart-acquaintance therewith, will be seen from a subsequent account of his experience. The light which he had into the nature, and his fervent manner of enforcing the worth, and necessity of Christian holiness, was one great means of enkindling, in the hearts of many, that fire of pure love, to God and man, which has since his death likewise, increased more abundantly, and still burns (O may it ever burn!) amongst us, to the greater glory of God. Only such as were experimental witnesses of it, having a true relish for things of so high a nature, can rightly conceive of the abilities, with which God endowed him, for this part of his work; of the manner in which, he,

In all his discourses on the subject, he as much as may be, carefully avoided his own words, both in explaining, and enforcing its nature, extent, and the means of attaining thereto. He did it in the words which the Holy Ghost teacheth, explaining those spiritual things, with spiritual words: (1 Corinthians ii. 13.) while in the mean time, his fervent and affecting manner of urging them, and indeed every other part of the doctrine of salvation, commanded,

He had not, it must be acknowledged, at least he had but little made use of, the art of preaching: not indeed that he was ignorant of such rules as, orators lay down for ordering, and conducting public discourses. His knowledge both of Logic and Rhetoric was far from being inconsiderable. He had both read, and in some good degree, digested the principles of both. But the eagerness with which he proceeded in his work; and the rapid flow of his soul, sending forth its good matter, not like the distilling of a water-pot, but as a plentiful shower from the heavens, watering deep and wide all around, did not suffer him to attend, with exactness, to such niceties in composition or delivery: nay, even prevented that moderation, as to the length, and manner of delivering his discourses, which would have been much more easy to himself, and to his audience, many of them being often in pain for him.

*Yet afterwards, when the repeated advice of his friends, and the necessity of his constitution, obliged him to a more slow, and deliberate manner, some ascribed it to (what they called) his want of power; such is the folly and weakness of many, in their sentiments with regard to this particular! How common is it to imagine, that the presence and power of the Spirit of God, and that influence by which souls are awakened, justified, or built up in holiness, depends upon the loudness of the preacher’s voice, or the swiftness of his expression? In other words, upon the strength of a man’s lungs, and it may be, the assurance of his gesture and utterance. A sentiment not more strange to the truly wise, than it is common with many. As though noise, and animal activity should be dignified with the names of spirit and power, and the want of them ascribed to dryness, deadness and formality! Strictly speaking indeed, there is no necessary divine power in any man’s manner of speaking, whether loud or low, swiftly or softly. It is the Spirit that quickeneth, and as he pleaseth; and it may be questioned, whether effects that have been sometimes produced, by a loud, vehement, and overbearing manner of speaking, were not in great measure merely mechanical, if not of Satan himself, to cast an odium upon the work of God. In truth the most substantial, genuine effects of the gospel ministry, arise from its delivery, not with noise and human vehemence, (which often rather calls off the mind from the inward life and communion with God:) but with distinct calmness, and wise deliberation.

There may often be a strong wind, an earthquake, and fire; but the Lord is in the still, small voice, (1 Kings xix. 11. 12.) and those are only in order to this. His word, it is true, is a sword, and a hammer, which wounds and breaks human hearts in pieces; and any one’s manner of speaking contributes towards this so far as it is to be commended. But considered independently of this (which is too often the case) the loudness of a man’s voice is in reality no better than the blowing of a trumpet, or the sound of a drum. Not by might, or by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts. What is here intended, is nakedly to represent a common mistake, in order to its removal.

His sermons were seldom less than an hour long; and yet, had in them such an agreeable variety, that they were rarely, if ever tedious, unless to such as wanted a savour for the things of God.

He was always at the conclusion, in a bath of sweat. And the place of preaching being often at some distance from his lodging, his suddenly growing cold again, was one reason of the frequency of the fevers which he had from time to time, during his whole life of public labour.

He often resolved before he began to preach, to restrain the rapidity of his spirit, but in vain: “The sword (as he once said to me) being too keen for the scabbard.” The fervour of his soul broke through all his resolutions, but wasted at the same time, the very springs of life, which he felt immediately afterwards.

With regard to the manner of his preparing for sermons, he seemed to keep between the two extremes, neglect of all actual, previous preparation, and a dry scholastic composition of exact materials. To have no regard to the matter, and manner of his discourses before hand, under the pretence of dependance upon heaven, for immediate influence and utterance, he judged to be rank enthusiasm; and often, a cloke for a lazy, indolence of spirit; on account, of which, nonsense has been too often dignified with the sacred names of inspiration and power. And yet, he judged it alike culpable, to seek after and trust to mere dry human skill, in fixing upon heads, and taking such measures, as to preach only ones self, independant as it were, on the quickening, enlighting presence of the Holy Ghost, without which all preaching and all hearing are vain.

*He prayed and studied, and studied and prayed again, going always (unless necessity prevented) from his closet and off his knees, into the pulpit. But when he came there, he gave himself up wholly into the hands of God, to be actuated and used by him, in all respects, as might be most for his glory. And it was glorious and wonderful, to see the good effects, which were produced at those times, by the words of God flowing from his lips, and entering into the heart, without indeed the ornaments of studied eloquence, but in their native majesty and simplicity; such as they are in themselves, and as he himself relished them. One circumstance relating to his manner, was, that he almost always begun, and in general concluded his sermons with a text of scripture: but so judiciously chosen, as seldom failed to touch the heart, and frequently to cast light on the whole subject.

One might easily gather from his way of preaching, how sensible he was of a mistake in many preachers, who content themselves, supposing there be but demonstration in their sermons, that they have spoken things which cannot be gainsay’d. Whereas if there be nothing more than clearness of demonstration, it may indeed be said to the preacher, thou preachest well; but what then? Who are quickened in their pursuit of God and heaven? Who hates his sins? Or who loves God the more for your discourse? Now where these are not to be found, may not a sinner as well be hearkening to a mathematician demonstrating Euclid’s elements, as to a preacher preaching thus?

It was far from satisfying him that his sermons had in them sufficient demonstration. Still retaining in mind, What is the end of preaching, bringing souls acquainted with, and building them up in God; he rated his sermons accordingly: and for the more effectual promotion of this, studied to be well acquainted with all the motions of the human heart, pointing his discourses there continually; laying hold, as it were of its very inmost thoughts, and with the sinners own weapons, slaying the enemies of his salvation. He applied to the conscience at every turn, and after having at any time demonstrated a peculiarly interesting truth of a general nature, he always took care to make it a personal thing, by questioning the heart of every one concerning their part therein. He frequently introduced, by way of comparison, many of the incidental occurrences in life, things respecting callings, families, and a thousand little matters, by which the great concerns of the soul enter more deeply and sensibly into the minds of the common people. I have heard a woman of known integrity say, that intending one evening to have his judgment, after preaching on several particulars, which were a weight to her mind; he so anticipated every objection, and answered them in the sermon, that she needed no farther enquiry.

*It was usual with him in his sermons, to propose and answer divers cases of conscience, which was an inexpressible satisfaction to many. In describing of vices (for which he was eminently remarkable) he did not so much dwell upon the vice itself abstractedly, as he shewed the persons to themselves, who were guilty thereof; and represented the unavoidable danger of such as lived and died therein. It was not so much pride, envy, anger, lust, drunkenness, swearing, and the like, which he painted in their detestable nature, (though he did this also;) but his drift at such times, was to describe the proud, the envious, the angry, and the lustful man; to alarm the drunkard, and the swearer, &c. as with the voice of thunder, to escape for their lives. The most guilty person can sit and hear his vice described, with composure enough; but the conscience of a sinner cannot so easily escape, when the preacher speaking as it were to one person (though without particularizing any) charges it home, Thou art the man. It was in this way that his sermons were, by the grace of God, effectual to the awakening and converting of so many.

His whole life being one series of holy living and mental improvement, preserved his heart, like an ever-fresh, and overflowing fountain, which on every occasion poured forth its fruitful streams of holy doctrine, and persuasive exhortation. It was easy to discern, that he felt the things he delivered. He gave himself wholly to this one thing; and, which was the crowning glory of all, was himself a pattern of the truths he taught.

*Indeed this was first and last, his main concern, That while he ministered to the wants of others, he might not sustain loss in his own soul, nor have to take up that sad complaint, They made me keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard have I not kept.¹ It is a fearful case for a preacher, to be only like a channel in a garden, through which the water runs to cool and moisten the herbs and flowers, but nothing for its own use; if not like the spoils of bevers, sheep and silk-worms, designed to cloath others, which are made the occasion of their own nakedness, if not the cause of their death. This indeed is never the intention of God, concerning his servants; but men bring it upon themselves through the abuse of his favours. What is this but to build a fortune for others, upon the ruins of one’s own house, while after preaching to others, thou thyself dost become a castaway.

CHAPTER X.

Of his temptations, conflicts and various exercises of soul.

IT is a point of wisdom, well worthy our ♦pursuit, to know what in the course of our experience we ought to ascribe to God, to angels, whether good or evil, and to ourselves. How greatly would it contribute to prevent many evil reasonings and self-tormenting consternations? And it is a point of knowledge to which the children of the kingdom do actually attain through faith and prayer.

The following few particulars, in the course of the experience of this man of God, which are ascribed to the agency of the power of darkness, are (among an infinity of other instances in the world) sufficient proofs of the attempts of those malicious spirits, to steal and to destroy, to rob us of the grace of God, and to destroy our souls.

Concerning the variety of inward conflicts which he went through, he often took notice that they were greatest on the Lord’s day; and says on the occasion, “Lord I am more afflicted on thy day, than on any other. Thou knowest the cause. If it be the enemy that afflicts me, do thou rebuke him; let him have no power over my body or soul. And O give me thy meek, and long-suffering mind to bear whatsoever burden thou permittest to come upon me.”

He observes likewise, When I have most life and power in preaching, then the devil and sin muster all their force, and thrust sore at me. But hitherto God has preserved me both from the great offence, and from misery and dejection.

The instances of the resistance he found in the time of preaching from invisible powers, were highly remarkable. He has sometimes started in amaze, at horrible injections, concerning God, or Christ, or some fundamental article of the Christian religion; even then, while he has been powerfully asserting, proving, and enforcing it. I have often heard him say, there was not a single divine truth, in the which he was then established, for which he had not fought, resisting as it were unto blood. For he would take nothing upon trust; nor see with the eyes of others. He derived his sentiments, from the fountain head. His best things came from God in the way of labour and striving.

He has been sometimes deprived of the use of some of his senses, during the very time of preaching: once in particular, 1751. In the midst of his discourse, he, in an instant lost his eye-sight and fell back in the pulpit, yet retaining, during the whole time, the perfect use of his understanding: he however, soon recovered, and finished his sermon. He believed, ♦and was not confounded.

Often when he has been disturbed in the silence of the night in ways more than natural, well knowing the cause, he has with much confidence, in the name of Jesus commanded the adversary to be gone; and he found it always according to his faith.

Riding one day with a friend, and talking as he was wont, of the goodness of God, and of the confidence which he found in him.――“Just then, (says he) my horse on a plain place threw me over his head. As I came to the ground, it was, as it were, sounded in my ears, ‘Will you trust God now?’ Yes I said, for ever! Through the mercy of the Lord I was not hurt. I saw an enemy had done it. I was thankful and felt no contrary emotion in my heart.”

One particular which ought perhaps to be reduced to this head, and which to some, no doubt, will appear singular, was a painful apprehension, which he sometimes had of dying. And what renders it the more observable is, that it was so even at those times, when he could truly triumph in Christ, knowing that he should be with him for ever. Of this we have the following account from himself.

“Saturday, December 1, 1753. After preaching I studied closely till ten. I found infinite sweetness in God; and much power breathed into my soul after all the mind of Christ. At present I am tempted chiefly with the fear of death. I believe my pardon is sealed by the blood of the covenant. I have no fear of hell, and yet I am sorely apprehensive of death.” Again,

“Monday 22d. I was this day, as I have been frequently of late much perplexed at the thought of dying. I believe my Redeemer liveth, and that I have an interest in his blood, and yet, notwithstanding, I am sore amazed at the thought of dissolution.”

And thus in reality it was with this servant of God; so that the uncomfortable apprehensions which he sometimes felt, even till near his end, in regard of dying must needs be ascribed, chiefly, to the permission of God to Satan, to exercise him in this manner; and may be considered as a thorn in his flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet him; perhaps partly for the easement of other tempted souls, and with regard to himself, thereby more fully

He studied deeply the nature of the Christian warfare, and was well practised in the use of its weapons. His thoughts on the whole armour of God,¹ ♦were the genuine result of his own experience. The combats which he met with, needed not less than the whole; and he both tried, and proved that every part thereof is indeed essential. Something very different from the preceeding particulars he relates as follows,

“Friday, August 2, 1754. I talked with one to-day, who was sorely tempted, (how mysterious!) to kill me; and for no other reason than because she was awakened under my preaching to feel herself a poor lost sinner.” Again,

“September 16. After preaching, a young woman came to me, and said, that some time before, she had brought a knife with her to preaching, intending to kill me; but was so terrified under the last prayer, that she durst not attempt it. The devil suggested, that if she did but take away my life, the burden which she felt through my preaching, would immediately depart.”

I shall conclude this chapter with a few other particulars, relating to this head of trials, taken from his own words.

“This day I was sorely tempted. Satan threw many of his fiery darts at me. I never before felt such agony in resisting, what are commonly called blasphemous thoughts. I cried unto the Lord, and he delivered me!”

“In the evening (not of the same day) I was in great distress. My soul was much weighed down. I felt grievous horror in my spirit, and yet I was resolved, although the Lord should slay me, to trust in him. In the very hour that I came to this resolution, my burden was removed; and the Lord gave me to rejoice in spirit.”

“This day, (April 1754) I had conversation with some Christian friends, concerning temptations, and the general experience of the saints. And however Satan may be permitted to trouble their body or soul, I always believed, that God doth not hide his face, unless to punish us for commission of sin, or omission of duty. And the more I meditate upon this subject, the more abundantly I am confirmed in my judgment.”

“Thursday 21. I had a miserable night. Sometime after I went to bed, I was sorely assaulted of the devil. I attempted to compose myself, but could not. I was suddenly seized with a weakness, and cold sweat. My heart failed me. My soul was afflicted; my spirit was grieved, and sore vexed. The eye of my faith was darkened; the sense of God’s love departed; and the anger of the Lord seemed revealed towards me. I could see nothing but thick darkness, and hear nothing but thundrings from Sinai! It seemed to me, as though there was a struggle between justice and mercy concerning me. But although I was in such confusion, and perplexity, I saw that mercy got the victory, and triumphed over judgment.”

*“My strength so failed me that it seemed as though I had not an hour to live. I rose however, and dressed myself; but could scarcely pray one word. I cried Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! I stretched myself upon the floor, and could weep only a few tears. I had gone through sore trouble and darkness before this time; but such a night as this, I never had before (and O my God, may I never see such another.) After being for some time on the floor, I got up and walked a little, about the room; and then threw myself upon my knees. Being a little revived, I went to bed again. During the little while I slept, I had before me the cause of my trouble. I soon got up, and my head was now as water, and my eyes a fountain of tears.

“My confidence returned, so that I could look up and believe that the Lord was mine. I went and preached on Zechariah iv. 7. Who art thou O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain; and he shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, crying, grace, grace unto it. And my soul was humbled to the dust. My praying and preaching was from my very heart. Let it be for ever remembered, to the glory of the great God, and my Saviour Christ, that I was not suffered to be long in this condition. In about half an hour, I received some confidence, and in the morning my faith was increased.

“Let it be also remarked, that the scripture promises were of great comfort to me, particularly Hosea xiv. 1. John ii. 2, 3. Glory, honour, praise, worship, and dominion be ascribed unto thee, O Lord! Ye angels of God, bless him on my behalf! Let all in heaven and all in earth join to worship the triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!” The following was some time after.

“Tuesday, 21. I had a sorrowful morning. My soul was in heaviness through manifold temptations. The enemy came upon me in my sleep, and grieved my soul. Although I had joy at night, yet sorrow attended me in the morning. I had intended to have preached on the beatitudes; but finding myself full of troubles and temptations, I changed my purpose and preached from Hebrews iv. 14‒16. O my God, must I perish? Hast thou brought me thus far and shall I be cast off? O, forbid it Saviour. Forsake not the work of thine own hands. Come and destroy the work of the devil! My God, my God, do not forsake me. Thou knowest that sin is hateful to me. Have I not a love to righteousness? Do not my soul and flesh cry out for the living God? Am I not willing to go even through the fire, rather than offend Thee? Why then should the enemy prevail against me?

“Jesus hast thou not bought my soul? Am not I thine? O that my head were waters, O that I could even weep tears of blood: Lord God let not thy loving kindness depart from me. Where art thou Jesus thou Son of God! My great High-Priest, where is thy atoning blood? Where is he that was tempted in all points like unto me? Is there no help for me in my God? Why art thou cast down O my soul? O that I could yield my last breath, if nothing else will end the strife! Oh! the languishments of my soul for an absent God! How does my spirit faint within me! How do I pine! O sun of righteousness, arise upon me with healing in thy wings. Come Lord Jesus, O come, and save me for thy mercy’s sake. Where are the soundings of thy bowels, Dost thou not see my labouring breast? Is not my pain even worse than strangling? Return O Lord, see my gasping longing, aching heart. Am I not an object of pity? Have I not need of Thee! Now answer me by fire! Get thyself the victory! I want the seal of thy Spirit, the earnest of my heaven!”

The Lord did hear his prayer. I find it therefore added soon after. “O how plentifully did the Lord pour his love and consolation into my soul! I am amazed at the goodness and long-suffering of God towards me. And I observe in general, that after great heaviness and conflicts, come extraordinary joy and consolation. O may I husband well this precious gift of God!”

CHAPTER ♦XII.

Some particulars relating to the head of his communion with God.

V.

HIS great rule was to imitate our Lord Jesus Christ, in the most perfect manner he could. The whole tenor of his conduct plainly discovered, that he sought nothing but God. There was in the chastity of his manners, a purity next to angelical; and a circumspection in his every step, which declared, that to him to live was Christ. He kept at the utmost distance from sensual indulgences of every kind. His senses were kept under the closest custody, and he examined his conscience almost continually. Nor could it be observed at any time, that he acted otherwise than within the rules of the utmost decency.

VI.

*He was a man of tears, and sighs, and groans. He wanted not indeed the joy of a good conscience; and knowing continually in whom he believed, he enjoyed the benefits resulting therefrom, and yet this notwithstanding, the whole of his Christian pilgrimage, was interspersed with much weeping. He seldom had a dry handkerchief a whole day together; his eyes being for the most part, in private especially, as opened fountains; and which did not cease to flow in the night season. How often have I known him water his pillow with those briny rivers! Sometimes lamenting his two great estrangement from his beloved; sometimes mourning for the mourners; but oftener than all, he was sick of love! Love to the Crucified!

To some indeed, there seemed in him something, at least bordering upon, an unyielding austerity of spirit: and so much is true, that with regard to men, and evil angels, he was undaunted, and courageous, as a lion, in the cause of God, and of a good conscience: yet, in other respects, he was a man of the keenest sensibility, and tenderest affections. He was in the presence of his invisible observer, pliant as melted wax, and cloathed with dove-like meekness. He was often, as it were, deluged in tears, prostrate before the footstool of his Lord’s majesty, and overwhelmed with a sense of his glory.

VII.

He was without affectation, a man of humility; not indeed so as to disown, or not to make use of the gifts and graces, with which God had endowed him: this would have been to lie against the truth; but notwithstanding all that he had, yet taking knowledge whence it came, he esteemed himself as nothing; but was truly diffident of, and heartily despised himself. And the only use which he made of the superior qualifications which God bestowed upon him, was to consider himself as obliged thereby, to devote himself more abundantly to the service of God, and of his neighbour. The praises of others served only to abase him, at the sight of his own nothingness. ‘Lord, I am vile! a worm! O deliver me from this evil man myself! Thou only art worthy,’ were the frequent expressions of his lips and pen. If any person, at any time, gave him but the smallest hint, by way of reproof, he received it either with silence, or thankfulness, according to the manner and occasion thereof. And supposing it to be a matter in which he was really without blame, yet the reproof was not lost upon him. He thereby took occasion, to enter more deeply into himself, making the strictest scrutiny into the whole of his tempers and behaviour. He often said to God on these occasions, ‘Lord, though thou knowest I am clear in this matter, yet, alas! How many things are there for which I stand reproved before thee! My God, I adore thee in this, which thou hast permitted.’ He often repeated as a lesson of instruction to himself, those words of Kempis, “Thou dust, learn to obey. Thou earth and clay, learn to demean thyself. Thou oughtest to be such a little child, that every body might trample thee under their feet in the streets.”

VIII.

There was the utmost steadiness in the whole of his religious conduct. The course of the sun, and the seasons, is not more regular, than were his successive exercises of prayer, meditation, preaching, and study; so that from knowing how he spent one day, may be gathered, his manner of spending whole months, or years; allowing only for the difference of circumstances and occasions. Thus it was in things pertaining to God, and his service; though at the same time, his attention to himself, his ease and conveniencies, was such, that some have accounted it not less than blame-worthy negligence: so truly did he live, not to himself, or the will of man, but to God.

IX.

The love of God was the fountain, whence issued forth those fruitful streams, which rendered his soul flourishing as the garden of the Lord, and extended their salutary influence all around, wherever he came. It was to this he reduced every thing. All his works were done in love, and therefore wrought in God. It was a debt he was ever paying, and from which he was never to be discharged.

‘My God, let me love thee! Jesus, Son of the living God, thou knowest that I love thee! O love divine, what hast thou done! O that all the world did but know thee! How would they then love thee, thou altogether lovely!’ To this effect he often breathed out the warm emotions of his heart: so deeply was he penetrated with the love of God his Saviour. He was always exceedingly pleased with, and frequently repeated those lines,

And again, without regarding their connexion; but overwhelmed with the thought of the dying love of Jesus, he would utter sometimes abruptly, and with astonishment,

*Lastly, By faith I stand! was his concluding point, after all that God had done for him. And it was not unusual with him to say, on the closest examination of all he was, and all he did, “If Christ forsook me but for a moment, I should fall and perish after all.” Yes, it was from his fullness he received all his good things, and with the dependent helplessness of an infant, he had recourse to him continually, for light, and strength, and love: for every thing in short, which he wanted. He could be happy only in conversation with him; delighted peculiarly in those parts of scripture which describe and endear him; and from the fulness of his whole soul, repeated often, God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of my Lord Jesus Christ. To him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, to him be the glory, both now and to eternity!

*To sum up this head. He thought prayer to be more his business than any thing else in this world; and from the desire which he had to redeem the time, he employed great part of the night, as well as the day, in prayer, meditation, study, and labouring for the good of his neighbour. He was profoundly serious, and always recollected at home and abroad. He watched over every motion of his soul, keeping his thoughts in subjection to Christ continually. He proposed to himself the man Christ Jesus, as his great model and rule in every thing; imitating him especially, in the purity of his body, and in the chastity of his affections. Walking in deep humility before God, he was patient of reproof, nor ever retorted any thing, with heat or prejudice. There was a steadiness in his proceedings for God, and in reference to eternity, which not all the powers of earth and hell were able to interrupt. He ate but little, wept much, loved more, received all by faith; and rarely opened his mouth, but about heavenly things.