return no more. Therefore defire none of thefe fleeting things; but that glory which abideth for ever.

18. Obferve well. This is religion, and this alone: this alone is true Chriflian religion; not this or that opinion, or fyftem of opinions, be they ever so true, ever fo fcriptural. It is true, this is commonly called faith. But thofe, who suppofe it to be religion, are given up to a strong delufion, to believe a lie. And if they fuppofe it to be a fure paffport to heaven, are in the high road to hell. Obferve well: religion is not harmleness; which a careful obferver of mankind properly terms Hellish harmleffuefs, as it fends thoufands to the bottomlels pit. It is not morality, excellent as that is, when it is built on a right foundation, loving faith. But when otherwife, it is of no value in the fight of God. It is not formality, the most exact obfervance of all the ordinances of God. This too, unless it be built on the right foundation, is no more pleafing to God, than the cutting off a dog's neck. No: religion is no less than living in eternity, and walking in eternity and hereby walking in the love of God and man, in lowlinefs, meeknefs, and refignation. This, and this alone is that life, which is hid with Chrift in God. He alone, who experiences this, dwells in God, and God in him. This alone is fetting the crown upon Chrift's head, and doing his will on earth, as it is done in heaven.

19. It will easily be obferved, that this is the very thing that men of the world call Enthufiafm. A word juft fit for their purpose, because no man can tell either the meaning, or even the derivation of it. If it has any determinate fenfe, it means a fpecies of religious madness. Hence, when you speak your experience, they immediately cry out, much religion hath made thee mad. And all that you experience either of the invisible or of the eternal world, they suppose to be only the waking dreams of a heated imagination. It cannot be otherwife, when men born blind, take upon them to reafon concerning light and colours. They will readily pronounce thofe to be infane,

who affirm the exiftence of those things, whereof they have no

conception.

20. From all that has been faid, it may be feen with the utmost clearness, what is the nature of that fashionable thing called Diffipation. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear: it is the very quinteffence of atheism: it is artificial added to natural ungodlinefs. It is the art of forgetting God, of being altogether without God in the world: the art of excluding him, if not out of the world he has created, yet out of the minds of all his intelligent creatures. It is a total, ftudied inattention to the whole invifible and eternal world: more especially to death, the gate of eternity, and to the important confequences of death, heaven and hell.

21. This is the real nature of Diffipation. And is it fo harmlefs a thing, as it is ufually thought? It is one of the choiceft inftruments of deftroying immortal fpirits, that was ever forged in the magazines of hell. It has been the means of plunging myriads of fouls, that might have enjoyed the glory of God, into the everlasting fire, prepared for the de il and his angels. It blots out all religion at one stroke, and levels man with the beafts that perish. All ye that fear God, flee from Diffipation! Dread and abhor the very name of it. Labour to have God in all your thoughts! To have eternity ever in your eye. Look continually, not at the things that are feen, but at the things which are not feen Let your hearts be fixed there, where Chrift fitteth at the right hand of God, that whenfoever he cal leth you, an entrance may be miniftered unto you abundantly intą kis everlaft ng kingdom.

London, Dec. 30. 1788.

M

W

G

A short

A fhort Account of Mr. GEORGE SHADFORD.

[Written by Himself.]

[Continued from page 13.]

Was often tempted this year to put an end to my life (for it was a year of finning, and a year of mifery.) I was afraid to ftand by a deep river, left I fhould throw myself in. If I was on the edge of a great rock, I trembled and thought I must cast myself down, and therefore was obliged to retreat fuddenly. Whe. I have been in the front gallery at church, I have many times been forced to withdraw backward, being horribly tempted to caft mylelf down headlong. It feemed as if Satan was permitted to wreak his malice upon me in an uncommon manner, to make me miferable; but, glory be to God, I was wonderfully preferved by an invifible hand, in the midst of luch dreadful temptations. At other times, when at prayer, or walking alone meditating, God hath graciously given me to taste of the powers of the world to come.

I always had a strong natural affection for my parents, and would do any thing that was in my power for them. It happened, a little before I went from home in the militia, that my father was in fome diftrefs in temporal circumftances. This moved me much; I therefore gave him all the money I had received in order to go into the militia. Very frequently, during my abfence from them, when the minifter read over the fifth commandment in the church "Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land, &c," with tears in my eyes, I have faid, "Lord incline my heart to keep this law' always believing a curfe would attend difobedient, undutiful children.

When

When our company lay in quarters at Gainsborough, I went with a ferjeant to the place where the Methodists frequently preached, which was the old hall belonging to Sir Nevil Hickman. We did not go with a defign of getting any good for our fouls; but to meet two young women (who fometimes frequented that place at one o'clock) in order to walk with them in the afternoon. When we came there, we found the perfons we wanted; but I foon forgot them, after the preacher began publick worship. I was much ftruck with his manner. He took out his hymn-book, and the people fang a hymn. After this he began to pray extempore in fuch a manner as I had never heard, or been used to before. I thought it to be a moft excellent prayer. After this he took his little Bible out of his pocket, read over his text, and put it into his pocket again. I marvelled at this, and thought within myfelf, "will he preach without a book too ?".

He began immediately to open the fcriptures, and compared fpiritual things with fpiritual, in fuch a light as I had never heard before. I did not fuppofe he had very learned abilities, or that he had ftudied either at Oxford or Cambridge: but fomething ftruck me "this is the gift of God; this is the gift of God." I thought it was the Lord's doings, and marvelous in my eyes.

The preacher spoke much against drunkennefs, fwearing, &c, but I thought I was not much guilty of fuch fins. At laft he spoke very close against pleasure-takers, and proved that fuch were dead while they live. I thought, if what he says be true, I am in a moft dreadful condition. I thought again, this muft be true, for he proves it from the word of God. Immediately I found a kind of judgment-feat fet up in my confcience, where I was tried, caft, and condemned; for, I knew I had been seeking happiness, in the pleafures of the world, and in the creature all my days; not in the Creator and Redeemer of my foul, the only central point of blifs. I revolved over and over what I had heard, as I went from preaching; and refolved, “If this be

Method.ft

Methodist preaching, I will come again; for, I received more light from that fingle fermon, than from all that ever I heard in my life before."

I thought no more about the girls, whom I went to meet; and found I had work enough to take care of my own foul. I now went every Sunday, when there was preaching, at half past one to the fame place, and continued fo to do most of the time we lay at Gainsborough. It was not long before iny comrades and acquaintance took notice of my religious turn of mind, and began to ridicule me. I was furprized at this; for, I (igno rantly) thought," If I become ferious, every one will love and admire me." I fili continued to go to preaching, till the fol diers and others having repeatedly reproached and laughed at me, I began to think I had not fufficient ftrength to travel to heaven, as I was, connected with fuch a fet of finners.

I then made a vow to almighty God, that if he would spare me until that time twelve month (at which time I fhould be at Tiberty from the militia, and intended to return home) I would then ferve him. So I refolved to venture another year in the old way, damned or faved. O! what a mercy that I am not in hell! that God did not take me at my word, and cut me off immediately! From this time the spirit of God was grieved, and confequently, I was left to fall into fin as bad, or worse than ever.

After this, we marched and were quartered near Dartford in Kent, where we continued eleven weeks. This place feemed to me the most prophane for fwearing, curfing, drunkenness, fabbath breaking, &c. that ever I faw in any part of England. I was fo affected, that I went to the minifter of the parish, and let him know what wretched work of drinking and fighting we had in the taverns in fervice time on Sunday; and defired him to fee to it. He did fo, and ftrictly forbad any liquor to be fold during church-service for the future. It was at this place the Lord arrefted me again with ftrong convictions; fo that I was obliged to leave my comrades at noon day, and ran up into

my