Shortly after this he was received into the society on trial by brother L. B. and three years afterwards appointed leader of a class, and about the same time became seriously impressed in mind, that it was his duty to devote himself wholly to the ministry of the word of God; and after passing through many sore conflicts of mind upon this subject, at length he resolved to make the experiment at every hazard, in obedience to what he considered the will of God; and accordingly, being duly recommended, he was offered to the Conference, sitting in the city of Baltimore, in October 1795; was received, and appointed to Winchester circuit, Virginia, where he laboured for about four months, and was then removed by his presiding elder to Pendleton circuit, where he travelled the remainder of the year. In 1796 was appointed to Bath circuit, where he laboured till the June following, and was then removed by his presiding elder to Alleghany circuit for the remainder of the year. In 1797 to Rockingham circuit. In 1798 re-appointed to Rockingham circuit, where he travelled about nine months, and was then removed by his presiding elder to Alexandria. In 1799 Fairfax circuit; in August of this year he says, "I took a vio lent cold from sleeping in an open room, which had like to have cost me my life. I was sick several days; the cold fell into my head and ear, which caused most violent pain, and threw me into fevers; but glory to God, he raised me up again, though I In 1800 Stafford have never been clear of a cough since." circuit. 1801 Baltimore circuit. 1802 got a dispensation for six months, and then took charge of the society in the city of Fredericksburgh. In 1803 having been labouring under almost constant indisposition for several years, and being now much emaciated and enfeebled, having a violent pain in his breast, with a severe cough, he asked and obtained a location from the Conference. In 1804 having considerably recovered his health in the past year, he was re-admitted into the travelling connec tion and appointed to Fredericktown, in the state of Maryland; during this year he married, and in 1805 was appointed to Alexandria. In 1806 to Baltimore city. In 1807 re-appointed to Baltimore city till the first of August, and then to take the charge of Baltimore circuit. In 1808 to Alexandria-1809 reappointed to Alexandria. In 1810 to the city of Annapolis. In 1811 to Baltimore city-1812 Supernumerary for Frederick circuit. Having received a superannuated relation to Conference, he retired to his farm near New-Market in Frederick county, Maryland, where he continued to linger the most extraordinary example of suffering patience, until February 1821, when he fell asleep in the arms of his Saviour without a struggle or a groan. Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace. Psalms xxxvii. 37.

He was a man of a meek and quiet spirit. His patience also was such as gave him the possession of his soul, in all the trials and afflictions he had to pass through. He was a lover and cultivator of peace and union in the church of God; and when he was called upon to execute discipline, the minister's painful and trying duty, he was generally enabled to perform the task, so as to secure the confidence of all concerned. He was a good minister of Jesus Christ. Love to God, and to immortal souls, filled and governed his heart; and truth, divine truth, was the constant guide of his mind in his exhortations and sermons. As an ambassador of Jesus Christ, he kept in view his awful charge. He was plain in person, manner, and language; and generally in the pulpit, he was so affected, that like his master he wept over those who refused or neglected to know the things belonging to their peace. There was a peculiar tenderness and pathos in his spirit and word, which frequently penetrated the whole congregation while he was holding forth the Lord Jesus Christ in all his offices, as the only and all-sufficient Saviour of lost men.

He was useful and successful in the ministry, and was the instrument of promoting several revivals of religion where he laboured. Hundreds, we believe, will be his joy and crown in the day of the Lord.

Scripture Illustrated.

ILLUSTRATION OF JOHN I. 18.

No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him.

"To see the Father refers not to a perception of the divine presence and glory. The external symbols and pledges of Jehovah's existence and favour were afforded to his servants from the beginning of the world. In this way he was seen by the patriarchs, by Moses, by the prophets, and by all the people of Israel in the wilderness of Sinai, &c. Nor does the phrase to see the Father, relate to the direct communications of the Divine mind and will to his servants. God had, 'at sundry times, and in divers manners, spoken in time past to the prophets,' who were denominated seers, on account of the discoveries with which they were favoured by the Almighty. The infallible Spirit of inspiration illuminated their minds; dictating to their faithful tongues and pens, as the living oracles of God. In this sense, the apostles saw God, and revealed his mind, more fully than their Divine Master did by his personal ministry, John

xvi. 12-15-To see God, therefore, here intends a contemplation of Deity in his own, immediate proper nature:-to view him, independently of any medium of times, place, or creatures. Neither man, nor angel, nor any finite intelligence, ever did or can thus see, i. e. comprehend the unlimited essence of Jehoyah; for, Who by searching can find out God? who can find out the Almighty unto perfection?-The Son of God sees the Father, and the Father sees and knows himself. This knowledge is essentially different from the knowledge of all creatures; and consequently must be the exclusive possession and prerogative of God. The Divine Being, though incomprehensible to all others, perfectly knows himself; and the Son claims recip rocal knowledge with the Father."

Evangelical Magazine for May, 1816.

The Attributes of God Displayed.

From the London Methodist Magazine.

To the Editor of the Methodist Magazine.
DEAR SIR,

I received the following account from an officer in the army, with unquestionable evidence of its authenticity. The insertion of it in the Methodist Magazine may serve the interests of religion, and will greatly oblige your's in the gospel of Christ, WM. WELBORne.

Burnley, Jan. 21, 1820.

During the year 1819, a private soldier in a regiment of foot, quartered at in Ireland, was noted for profane swearing and horrid imprecations, particularly for calling upon God and the devil alternately, to strike him deaf and dumb. One evening, being in the guard-house, he related some things to his companions which seemed to them incredible, and in confirmation of which, he cursed and swore vehemently.-Sergeantproved him, and reasoned with him on the wickedness of his conduct, and the danger of provoking God to punish him. But, instead of standing reproved, he made an open profession of his infidelity, and declared that he did not believe in any thing supernatural, nor in revelation, nor in any thing that he could not

see.

re

At eleven o'clock, he went to his post. At twelve o'clock, Sergeant with an orderly man, visited the different sentinels, and, in approaching the profane swearer, was surVOL. IV.

27

prised to find himself not challenged. Sergeant spoke, but received no answer; and approaching him found him resting on his musket, and tears running down his face. On shaking him by the arm, the unfortunate man, by putting his fingers to his ears and mouth, signified that his horrid imprecation was answered by the loss of his hearing and speech.-How awful the state of that man who contendeth with his Maker! It is hard to kick against the goads.

W. W.

C

I was about composing myself to write to the Rev. Mr. when Mrs. Gn handed me your letter.

It is needless, Dear Sir, for me to say how accordant and how grateful to my feelings its contents. Though a pleasing, yet you have imposed upon me a difficult task: for O! how can I venture to tread upon the confines of a sanctuary so new to me, or how analyze feelings that have poured in upon me from a quarter altogether unexpected; feelings that have alternately plunged me into the depths of misery and despair, and elevated me to a summit of felicity before unknown; extatic feelings, that at times struggle for expression with all the "vivida vis animi" of poetic rapture. How can I express to you that confusion, tumult and chaos of mind, of alternate doubting and hoping, through which I have passed, and I fear in which I am still partially struggling: I cannot express it, nor are you, my dear Hy, from your own experience, qualified to judge of it, for you could not have borne about you so terrifying and overwhelming a load of sin. You could not, in the course of your comparatively innocent life, have so heaped transgression upon transgression, as I have done: you could not have waded so deep into the impure and corrupted channels of vice and immorality: O! you could not have been so lost in the hedious wilderness of impiety and sin, as to have almost lost sight of that presence which fills the universe-as nearly to have extruded from your bosom, that instinct of duty, which abides in every soul: you had not so fortified and intrenched yourself behind the bulwarks of infidelity, as to refuse all com

merce with an heavenly ambassador-to treat his overtures of peace and of love with derision-to slight and scorn his lifegiving invitations, and to frown him from your presence. O no! You had never wandered to that immeasurable distance from our God that I have done. How then can you judge of my feelings, when a light from heaven flashed across my path, and illuminated the tract of my wanderings-when I saw myself, as I believed, out of the reach of the mercy of God. But let me view myself no longer in this wilderness; let me no longer find myself enclosed in the intrenchments of infidelity: for I trust I have for ever grounded my arms of rebellion, and surrendered myself to One who is mighty to save. Then let it be my chiefest joy, that I have seen, and been made to pause, on the edge of the precipice; and let it be joy, and gratitude, and love, to him who looked from his heavenly habitation on a wretch so unworthy: to him who arrested my footsteps on the brink of that chasm into which I was precipitating myself; who poured a flood of light on the tangled labyrinth into which I had travelled, and gave me to see in the horrid retrospect, the distance I had wandered from my God, and the barriers I had pertinaciously erected to impede my return. O! Hy, let it it be glory to Him who stretched out an arm of mercy to your dying friend; who has, as he hopes and believes, given him to taste of that cup of mercy, of which he is so unworthy; who has given him to look with an eye of faith, to a crucified and risen Saviour. O! pray with him, and for him, that the rallying point of his affections may ever be around Mount Calvary; where the Babe of Bethlehem, our hope, our council, our guide, our wisdom, the friend of sinners, our Mediator, and our God, finished the redemption of a lost and ruined world.

But you ask me in your letter, to portray to you my feelings and exercises. I will obey you as well as I can. You must go with me then to F-n Hd, I have a veneration for it, and love the resort, for there, as I trust, first dawned the morn ing of a new era in my life. I think it was on Sunday evening, at that place, after hearing the sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. G -n. (It was a discourse that completely disarmed me, and for the first time almost in my life, caused me to look with scrutiny into my own soul.) My mind became completely, and wholly fixed in contemplating the future destiny of man, his business in this world, his depravity and corruption, his fall from a state of rectitude and purity, and the necessity of a Mediator to reclaim him: O! I could make nothing of it!Yet a total abstraction from every other contemplation but this, had so fastened itself upon me, that I attempted in vain to turn from it: such was the painful intensity of the contemplation, that my head ached, and my bosom heaved, to relieve itself