and however high your spiritual attainments may be, it must never be forgotten that it is only as the Friend of Sinners that Jesus Christ can be precious to you. The more truly that you realize your misery and evil desert as sinners, the more invaluable will the Saviour become to you; the more sincerely and profoundly that you mourn, the more abundantly will you be comforted. He who has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, has no satisfaction in the sufferings of His saints, but He shows that this is His mind not by blessing those who shut their eyes to their own demerit, and to the misery from which He came to rescue them, but by giving peace and joy in believing, and by comforting those who mourn. You must preserve the character of mourners, then, if you would live in the enjoyment of the blessings of the Gospel. If there are any among you who are at ease in Zion, I would put it to yourselves, whether the Gospel is indeed a comfort to you? Or if there are any of you who are conscious that the Gospel is not yielding you that satisfaction which you once derived from it, then, though you may be suffering from fretfulness and disappointment, may there not be reason to ask whether you are sincerely lamenting your guilt? You can look back to a time when you were more solicitous to please God, when conscience was more tender, and your soul was more easily wounded by sin; but was it not then, also, that in the answer of a good conscience, in reconciliation to God, and in a loving confidence in the Saviour, you enjoyed a comfort and peace of mind which was indeed an earnest of heaven; and this blessedness which ye spake of, you shall never know again till your hearts are burdened and broken as before. Let us, then, be afflicted, and mourn, and weep. Let our laughter be turned into mourning, and our joy into heaviness. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, and He who, though guiltless himself, tasted all the bitterness of sin for us, sympathizes with the penitent, and it will be His delight, for it is the very end for which He suffered, to comfort those that mourn. It should be remarked, that it is the duty of Christians to mourn not only over their own sins and short-comings, but also over a world that lieth in wickedness; and that in the exercise of that charity, which rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth, they shall be comforted as the cause of Christ prospers in this world, and that in the end they shall enter into the joy of their Lord, when, in the multitude which no man can number, He "shall see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied." In conclusion, if there are any among you who are conscious that the character of mourners does not belong to you, who selfishly prefer happiness to godliness, who are not engaged in the cultivation of an humble and contrite spirit, and who never sincerely pray for a broken heart, then it becomes you to consider the words of our Lord in a parallel passage, "Woe unto you that laugh now, for ye shall mourn and weep." The sins of which you have been guilty may give you no uneasiness, the corruptions which still remain unsubdued in your heart may awaken no sorrowful emotions within you, you may live in the habitual neglect of religion, or, without deriving any benefit or blessing from it, you may nourish your hearts as in a day of slaughter, but the deceitful calm will soon be over, the sins by which you set so lightly, and which you contrive to forget so speedily, will cleave to you and torment you throughout eternity, and amidst the restless tossings of an unspeakable remorse you will come to know that they only were wise and truly blessed, who gave themselves to mourning when they had the prospect and the promise of comfort. CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Holy Fear.-Holy fear is a searching the camp that there be no enemy within our bosoms to betray us, and seeing that all be fast and sure. For I see many professors who take their conversion upon trust and go on securely, like leaky vessels fair before the wind, and see not the underwater till a storm sink them.RUTHERFORD. The way in which sin works for good to the Believer. believer. It is an equivocal sentence, and one which -It is sometimes said that sin works for good to the ought not to pass without explanation. Sin being among the things which work together for good, may be so explained. It is sin as imputed to the Saviour sin as atoned for by the Saviour sin as repented of by the sinner-sin as triumphed over by faith in the atonperused in all its workings in the human spirit-seen ing blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ-sin as in all its machinations with the eye of God-fought against and triumphed over by the arm of Jehovah. HOWELS. Self-denial.-Real happiness, health, order, peace, and beauty, depend on self-denial. If nature in its wild state, and wishes, and indulgent sensualities is to be humoured, a doze of poison is brewing,—a scourge be won by perpetual war, and the health of the spirit for the fool's back is preparing. Perfect peace must by the death of the flesh. There are indeed some who pretend to have discovered a cheaper way of obtaining these things; but I never yet met with one who could show his bargain; so that I have fresh evidence of my old maxim,—That religion will cost us something, but the want of it infinitely more so.-CECIL. Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts.-Advert fear; consider him as always looking on the heart; continually to his presence with reverence and godly trust in his almighty protection; believe in him as a holy sin-hating God, and reconciled to sinners of mankind only in Jesus Christ; value his favour above all the world, and make it the settled sole aim of your lives to approve yourselves to his pure eyes.-ADAM. Christ's All-sufficiency.-Christ is able to save you from the pollution and defilement of your foulest lusts and the renewing of the Holy Ghost. and sins; and that by the "washing of regeneration Those spots of defilement that have so polluted and stained your consciences, that no tears, though your eyes were turned into ever-running streams, should ever be able to wash out, yet the sprinkling of the blood of Christ can. It can purge the heart and conscience from dead works, into whiteness and purity. Christ is able to save not and change the scarlet and crimson complexion of it only from the pollution of the foulest, but from the guilt and condemnation of the greatest eins; and that by a free pardon and remission of them. Is it the countless number of them that affrights thee? Were they yet more, Christ can save thee from them: 1. John i. 7. "The blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin." Dost thou complain that thy sins are as many as the sand upon the sea-shore? Yea, but dost thou not know that the sea can cover the sands? Lo, the overflowing blood of Christ can reach the uttermost borders and extent of all thy sins, and keep them from the sight of God that they shall never more appear. Be persuaded therefore, to accept of the tenders of an all-sufficient Saviour. If you now neglect so great salvation, as the Lord Jesus in the Gospel proffers to you, your death may be so soon as to prevent another offer of him to you. BISHOP HOPKINS. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. THE REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD, A.M. THIS eminent and highly gifted man was born in 1714, was often accustomed in after-life to speak in terms of the warmest gratitude. The account, however, which he has left of his conduct in his early days, is by no means flattering, and if the picture be not too highly mother's circumstances being now on the decline, he began to assist her occasionally in the public-house, "till at length," to quote his own words, "I put on my blue apron and my snuffers, washed mops, cleaned rooms, and in one word, became professed and common drawer for nigh a year and a half.” While thus employed he was not altogether inattentive to the duties of religion. He frequently read the Word of God, and although his mind was very slightly impressed with the importance and reality of divine things, he still maintained to a considerable extent an outward profession of Christianity. After he had continued about a year in the servile employment to which he had voluntarily surrendered himself, his mother was obliged to leave the inn, devolving the business upon his brother, while it was agreed that George should still continue there as an assistant. Matters however, did not proceed so comfortably as was anticipated, and having disagreed with his sister-in-law, he left Gloucester to pay a visit to his elder brother, then settled in Bristol. It was during this temporary stay in Bristol that the mind of George Whitefield was seriously aroused to the necessity of seeking to be a Christian indeed. He began to feel a pleasure in reading religious works. " and I was Thomas-a-Kempis was his chief delight; "till the bell rang to call always impatient" says he, me to tread the courts of the Lord's house." But amid all this apparent fervour he was constantly visited with the impression that his present religious feelings would And indeed his fears in this re spect were too speedily realized. On his return to Gloucester the warmth of his ardour soon abated. He felt little inclination for either the public exercises of the sanctuary, or the private devotions of the closet. coloured, the tender heart of his parent must have been often wounded by the waywardness and follies of his youth. Not without deep remorse and frequent self-speedily evaporate. reproaches he plunged into indiscretions, and even crimes, with an avidity which, while it betrayed an ardent temperament, was too plainly indicative of a yet unsanctified heart. But amid the melancholy manifestations which even in early childhood, George White-But though his spiritual affections were thus deadened, field gave of the native corruption of the human heart, he was by no means a stranger to compunctious visitings On the contrary, he declares in his candid and minute and often graphic autobiography very early movings of the blessed Spirit upon his heart." Destined as this thoughtless and apparently unprincipled youth was to become a pre-eminently useful minister of Christ, he was not left without frequent and deep convictions of sin. of conscience. that he recollected " At the age of twelve George was placed at a school called St. Mary de Crypt, in Gloucester. Here he acquired a peculiar taste for theatrical acting and display, and here too he seems, by his own account, to have been very unhappy in the choice of his associ ates: "I got acquainted with such a sect of debauched, abandoned, atheistical youths, that if God, by his free, unmerited, and special grace, had not delivered me out of their hands, I should have sat in the scorner's chair, and made a mock at sin. By keeping company with them, my thoughts of religion grew more and more like theirs. I went to public service only to make sport, and walk about. I took pleasure in their lewd conversation. I began to reason as they did, and to ask, why God had given me passions, and not permitted me to gratify them? In short, I soon made great proficiency in the school of the devil. I affected to look rakish, and was in a fair way of being as infamous as the worst of them." The company into which young Whitefield was thus thrown soon destroyed all relish for education, and his he had lost all relish for the bustle and turmoil of an inn. He therefore gave up all connection with his former employment, and took up his residence under his mother's roof until an eligible situation of some kind or other could be obtained. The manner in which he spent his time while residing with his mother may be stated in his own words : "Having now, as I thought, nothing to do, it was a proper season for Satan to tempt me. Much of my time I spent in reading plays, and in sauntering from place to place. I was careful to adorn my body, but took little pains to deck and beautify my soul. Evil communications with my old school-fellows, soon corrupted my good manners. By seeing their evil practices, the sense of the divine presence I had vouchsafed unto me, insensibly wore off my mind. But God would let nothing pluck me out of his hands, though I was continually doing despite to the Spirit of grace. He even gave me some foresight of his providing for One morning as I was reading a play to my sister, said I Sister, God intends something for me, which we know not of. As I have been diligent in business, I believe many would gladly have me for an apprentice, but every way seems to be barred up; so that I think God will provide for me some way or other, that we cannot apprehend." me. Tired at length of an idle life, George was exceedingly anxious to resume his studies, if there could be any hope of his finding admission to Oxford. A prospect of this kind providentially opened up, and he was put for a time under the care of his old master, that he might prepare for entering college. During his at◄ tendance at school, he began to be more and more serious, and the change which now displayed itself in his whole deportment was peculiarly gratifying to his friends. But we must let the candid autobiographer use his own language :— 66 Being now near the seventeenth year of my age, I was resolved to prepare myself for the holy sacrament; which I received on Christmas day. I began now to be more watchful over my thoughts, words, and actions. I kept the following Lent, fasting Wednesday and Friday, thirty-six hours together. My evenings, when I had done waiting upon my mother, were generally spent in acts of devotion, reading Drelincourt upon Death,' and other practical books, and I constantly went to public worship twice a-day. Being now upper boy, I made some reformation amongst my school-fellows. I was very diligent in reading and learning the classics, and in studying the Greek Testament; but I was not yet convinced of the absolute unlawfulness of playing at cards, and of reading and seeing plays, though I began to have some scruples about it. Near this time, I dreamed that I was to see God on Mount Sinai, but was afraid to meet him. This made a great impression on me, and a gentlewoman to whom I told it, said, George, this is a call from God.'" This dream appears to have had a powerful effect on the ardent, enthusiastic mind of young Whitefield. "For a twelvemonth," he says, "I went on in a round of duties, receiving the sacrament, fasting frequently, attending constantly on public worship, and praying, often more than twice a-day, in private." Being now eighteen years old, it was judged proper that he should be sent to the university. By the recommendation and assistance of some kind friends, accordingly, he was entered at Pembroke College, Oxford. Here he found a spirit of irreligion and speculative scepticism prevailing to a great extent among his fellow-students, and with the exception of the Wesleys, and the few who adhered to their principles and habits, Mr Whitefield stood almost alone in his desire to maintain a Christian character and deportment. He was happily kept from walking in the steps of the ungodly around him, and to the conversation of Mr Charles Wesley he owed much. This good man, anxious to promote the spiritual welfare of such a promising youth as George Whitefield then was, put into his hands various books, chiefly of a practical nature; and in reference to one of these, Scougal's Life of God in the Soul of Man,' he says, "I never knew what true religion was, till God sent me that excellent treatise, by the hands of my neverto-be-forgotten friend." The influence which Mr Wesley possessed over the mind of his young disciple was great, and it is painful to peruse the extravagant conduct in which, by his injudicious counsels, he persuaded him to indulge : "From time to time, Mr Wesley permitted me to come unto him, and instructed me as I was able to bear it. By degrees he introduced me to the rest of his Christian brethren. I now began, like them, to live by rule, and to pick up every fragment of my time, that not a moment of it might be lost. Like them, having no weekly sacrament (although the Rubrick required it) at our own college, I received it every Sunday at Christ Church. I joined with them in keeping the stations, by fasting Wednesdays and Fridays, and left no means unused which I thought would lead me nearer to Jesus Christ. By degrees I began to leave off eating fruits and such like, and gave the money I usually spent in that way to the poor. Afterward I│ I always chose the worst sort of food, though my place furnished me with variety. My apparel was mean. thought it unbecoming a penitent to have his hair pow. dirty shoes; and though I was then convinced that the dered. I wore woollen gloves, a patched gown, and kingdom of God did not consist in meats and drinks, yet I resolutely persisted in these voluntary acts of self-denial, because I found them great promoters of the spiritual life. It was now suggested to me that Jesus Christ was amongst the wild beasts when he was tempted, and that I ought to follow his example; and being willing, as I thought, to imitate Jesus Christ, after supper I went into Christ Church walk, near our college, and continued in silent prayer nearly two hours, sometimes lying flat on my face, sometimes kneeling upon my knees. The night being stormy, it gave me awful thoughts of the day of judgment. The next night I repeated the same exercise at the same place. Soon after this, the holy season of Lent came on, which our friends kept very strictly, eating no flesh during the six weeks, except on Saturdays and Sundays. I abstained frequently on Saturdays also, and ate nothing on the other days (except Sunday) but sage-tea without sugar, and coarse bread. I constantly walked out in the cold mornings, till part of one of my hands was quite black. This, with my continued abstinence, and inward conflicts, at length so emaciated my body, that, at Passion-week, finding I could scarce creep up stairs, I was obliged to inform my kind tutor of my condition, who immediately sent for a physician to me." A severe illness of seven weeks was overruled by God to bring Mr Whitefield out of this legal and selfrighteous spirit. Sin was now seen by him in somewhat of its true enormity, and he was shut up to the faith of the Gospel. He searched the Scriptures with the utmost avidity. "Though weak," says he, "I often spent two hours in my evening retirements, and prayed over my Greek Testament and Bishop Hall's most excellent Contemplations."" His knowledge of the true nature of the Gospel scheme now became clearer, more accurate, and therefore more comforting. He went on his way rejoicing. The light of the Sun of righteousness had arisen upon him with healing in his beams. During his residence at Oxford, Mr Whitefield was not contented with a careful assiduity in his college studies; he spent his leisure hours in visiting the poor at their own houses, and in conversing and praying with the prisoners in the town gaol. An instance of this may be mentioned : : "As I was walking along, I met with a poor woman Seeing her much discomposed, I inquired the cause. whose husband was then in bocardo, Oxford town gaol. She told me that, not being able to bear the crying of her children, and having nothing to relieve them, she had been to drown herself, but was mercifully prevented, and said, she was coming to my room to inform me of it. I gave her some immediate relief, and de sired her to meet me at the prison with her husband in the afternoon. She came; and there God visited them both by his free grace. She was powerfully quickened; and when I had done reading, he came to me like the trembling jailer, and grasping my hand, cried out, I am upon the brink of hell!' From this time forward both of them grew in grace. God, by his providence, soon delivered him from his confinement. Though notorious offenders against God and one another before, yet now they became helps meet for each other in the great work of their salvation.” The state of his health compelled Mr Whitefield to quit Oxford and return for a time to Gloucester. Here | he felt himself very uncomfortable. His friends viewed him with pity as a fanatic and a fool. He had no associates as at Oxford with whom he could converse on the things of eternity. All around him was spiritual desolation and death. The very thought of this however, instead of discouraging him, only roused his ardent and energetic mind. He set himself with redoubled zeal to the study of the Bible and to prayer. On this subject he thus speaks : "My mind being now more open and enlarged, I began to read the Holy Scriptures upon my knees, laying aside all other books, and praying over, if possible, every line and word. This proved meat indeed, and drink indeed, to my soul. I daily received fresh life, light, and power from above. I got more true know ledge from reading the Book of God, in one month, than I could ever have acquired from all the writings of men. In one word, I found it profitable for reproof, for correction, for instruction; every way sufficient to make the man of God perfect, thoroughly furnished for every good work and word. About this time God was pleased to enlighten my soul, and bring me into the knowledge of his free grace, and the necessity of being justified in his sight by faith only. This was more extraordinary, because my friends at Oxford had rather inclined to the mystic divinity. Burkitt's and Henry's Expositions were of admirable use to lead me into this and all other Gospel truths. It is the good old doctrine of the Church of England; it is what the holy martyrs, in Queen Mary's time, sealed with their blood. Oh what sweet communion had I daily vouchsafed with God in prayer after my coming to Gloucester! How often have I been carried out beyond myself when meditating in the fields! How assuredly I felt that Christ dwelt in me and I in him, and how daily did I walk in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, and was edified and refreshed in the multitude of peace!" Nor did he seek only his own improvement; he sought also the improvement of others :— I "I always observed that as my inward strength increased, so my outward sphere of action increased proportionably. In a short time, therefore, I began to read to some poor people twice or thrice a-week. likewise visited two other little societies besides my own. Occasionally as business and opportunity permitted, I generally visited one or two sick persons every day; and though silver and gold I had little of my own, yet in imitation of my Lord's disciples, who entreated in behalf of the fainting multitude, I used to pray unto him, and he, from time to time, inclined several that were rich in this world to give me money, so that I generally had a little stock for the poor always in my hand. One of the poor, whom I visited in this manner, was called effectually by God at the eleventh hour: she was a woman above threescore years old, and I really believe died in the true faith of Jesus Christ. "At my first coming to Gloucester, being used to visit the prisoners at Oxford, I prayed most earnestly that God would open a door for me to visit the prisoners here also. Quickly after, I dreamed that one of the prisoners came to be instructed by me: it was much impressed upon my heart. In the morning I went to the door of the county gaol; I knocked, but nobody came to open it. I waited still upon God in prayer; and in some months after, came a letter from a friend at Oxford, desiring me to go to one Pebworth, who had broken out of Oxford gaol, and was retaken at Gloucester. As soon as I read this letter, it appeared to me that my prayer was now answered. Immediately I went to the prison: I met with the person, and finding him and some others willing to hear the Word of God, (having gained leave of the keeper and two ordinaries,) I constantly read to, and prayed with, them every day I was in town. I also begged money for them, whereby I was enabled to release some of among them; as also to put such books into their hands them, and cause provision to be distributed weekly as I judged most proper. I cannot say that any one of the prisoners was effectually wrought upon; however, much evil was prevented, many were convinced, and my own soul was much edified and strengthened in the love of God and man." His friends now became anxious that he should be ordained to the ministry without delay; but so deep was his feeling of the responsibility which attaches to the sacred office, that for some time he declined. Being as yet only twenty-one years of age, he was afraid that, by rushing precipitately into the ministry, he might incur the reprehension of the apostle, "Not a novice, lest being puffed up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil." At length his scruples were overcome, and he resolved to offer himself to Bishop Benson for ordination. His feelings in the prospect of that solemn ceremony, and his views in entering on the ministerial work, will be best described in his own words : "About three days before the time appointed for ordination, the bishop came to town. The next evening I sent his Lordship an abstract of my private examination upon these two questions: Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon you this office and administration?' And,' Are you called according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the laws of this realm?' The next morn ing I waited upon the bishop. He received me with much love; telling me, he was glad I was come, and that he was satisfied with the preparation I had made. Upon this I took my leave; abashed with God's goodness to such a wretch, but, withal, exceedingly rejoiced that, in every circumstance, he made my way into the ministry so very plain before my face! This, I think, was on Friday. The day following I continued in abstinence and prayer. In the evening, I retired to a hill near the town, and prayed fervently, for about two hours, on behalf of myself and those that were to be ordained with me. On Sunday morning I rose early, and prayed over St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and more particularly over that precept, 'Let no one despise thy youth.' When I went up to the altar, I could think of nothing but Samuel's standing a little child before the Lord, with a linen ephod. When the bishop laid his hands upon my head, my heart was melted down, and I offered up my whole spirit, soul, and body, to the service of God's sanctuary. I read the Gospel, at the bishop's command, with power, and afterward sealed the good confession I had made before many witnesses, by partaking of the holy sacrament.' The powerful effect produced by one of his first discourses in public, he thus describes in a letter to a friend: Glory! glory! glory! be ascribed to an Almighty Triune God. Last Sunday, in the afternoon, I preached my first sermon in the church of St. Mary De Crypt, where I was baptized, and also first received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Curiosity, as you may easily guess, drew a large congregation together on the occasion. The sight, at first, a little awed me; but I was comforted by a heartfelt sense of the divine presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accustomed to public speaking when a boy at school; and of exhorting and teaching the prisoners, and poor people at their private houses, whilst at the university. By these means I was kept from being volent and Christian enterprize. Several months, however, elapsed, before he had it in his power to leave England. He, therefore, undertook to officiate for a short time for one of his friends at Stonehouse. While in this retired situation, he spent much of his time in prayer and meditation. On this subject he says: daunted overmuch. As I proceeded, I perceived the | in Georgia, he gladly consented to engage in the bene fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd of those who knew me in my infant, childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of Gospel authority. Some few mocked, but most, for the present, seemed struck; and I have since heard, that a complaint had been made to the bishop, that I drove fifteen mad by the first sermon. The worthy prelate, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday. Before then, I hope my sermon upon He that is in Christ is a new creature,' will be completed. Blessed be God, I now find freedom in writing. Glorious Jesus! Unloose my stammering tongue, to tell Soon after his ordination, Mr Whitefield returned to Oxford to take out his bachelor's degree. He had not been long there, when he received and accepted an invitation to officiate for two months in the chapel of the Tower of London. The effect of his first sermon in the metropolis, which was preached in Bishopsgate Church, it may be interesting to notice in his own language: "On Wednesday, August 4th, 1737, with fear and trembling, I obeyed the summons, and went in the stage coach to London; and the Sunday following, in the afternoon, preached at Bishopsgate Church. As I went up the pulpit stairs, almost all seemed to sneer at me, on account of my youth. But they soon grew serious in the time of my preaching; and after I came down, showed me great tokens of respect, blessed me as I passed, and made great inquiry who I was. The question no one could answer; for I was quite a stranger: and, by passing speedily through the crowd, returned to the Tower without having my name discovered." From that period his popularity began to increase. Flocks of people crowded to hear him, and multitudes who "went to scoff, remained to pray." The fickle breath of popular applause, however, was not what Mr Whitefield sought. Though admired and courted in London, he felt no desire to continue his labours there; his heart was set upon preaching the Gospel in a foreign land. Some time previous, the attention of the religious public in England had been awakened to send the Gospel to the British colonies in America, and the Wesleys had located themselves in Georgia. The melancholy accounts sent home in reference to the moral condition of the people in these quarters deeply affected the heart of Mr Whitefield, and he was strongly inclined to emigrate thither. Before his resolution had been fully formed, however, his two months' engagement in London expired, and he returned to Oxford. There he chiefly devoted his time to the study of Henry's Commentary. This employment he found to be exceedingly profitable; but it was speedily interrupted by an invitation to officiate for a short time at Dummer in Hampshire. The place was obscure, the people were poor and illiterate, and the young minister, with the utmost zeal and energy, so laboured among them, that both he and they were much benefited. While here he rigidly economized his time, dividing the day into three equal parts; eight hours for sleep and meals; eight for public prayers, catechizing, and visiting; and eight for study and devotional retirement. During his residence in Dummer, a curacy in the metropolis, with a large salary, was offered to him; but being still bent on going abroad, he declined the offer. At length, being invited and urged by the Wesleys to join them "Sometimes as I have been walking, my soul would make such sallies, that I thought it would go out of the body. At other times I would be so overpowered with a sense of God's infinite majesty, that I would be constrained to throw myself prostrate on the ground, and offer my soul as a blank in his hands, to write on it what he pleased. One night was a time never to be forgotten. It happened to lighten exceedingly. I had been expounding to many people, and some being afraid to go home, I thought it my duty to accompany them, and improve the occasion, to stir them up to prepare for the coming of the Son of man. In my return to the parsonage, while others were rising from their beds, and frightened almost to death to see the lightning run upon the ground, I and another, a poor but pious countryman, were in the field, praising, praying to, and exulting in our God, and longing for that time when Jesus shall be revealed from heaven in flaming fire.' Oh that my soul may be in a like frame when He shall actually come to call me!" From Stonehouse he proceeded to Bristol, where the utmost excitement prevailed among all classes to hear him. He preached while there to overflowing audiences; and when he was about to leave the town, the house where he lodged was besieged by multitudes of people, beseeching him to remain in England. Mr Whitefield remained firm to his purpose, unmoved by the tears and entreaties of his friends and admirers. He next repaired to London, where his services were called into requisition to such an extent, that he was in the habit of preaching four times on the Sabbath, had often to walk ten or twelve miles in going from one church to another, and to preach five times in the week besides. Nor did he intermit his exertions until he embarked for America. His own words are these:— "The nearer the time of my embarkation approached, the more affectionate and eager people grew. Ali ranks gave vent to their passion. Thousands and thousands of prayers were put up for me. The people would run and stop me in the alleys of the churches, hug me in their arms, and follow me with wishful looks. Such a sacrament I never saw before as at St. Dunstan's. The tears of the communicants mingled with the cup: and had not Jesus given us some of his new wine,' our parting would have been insupportable. "At length having preached in a good part of the London churches, collected about a thousand pounds for the charity schools, and got upwards of three hundred pounds for the poor in Georgia, I left London on December 28th, 1737, in the twenty-third year of my age, and went, in the strength of God, as a poor pilgrim, on board the Whitaker." In our next Number we shall pursue the career of this devoted minister of Christ, whose labours in the cause of the Redeemer have scarcely, if equalled since the days of the apostles. ever, been |