Chapter V: Front Matter (5)

Let not any either ignorantly or wilfully mistake me. I would _not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn_. I know the spiritual _labourer_ too _is worthy of his reward_; and that if _we sow_ unto our flock _spiritual things_, it is meet that we _reap of their carnal things_. I do not therefore blame, no, not in any degree, a minister’s _taking_ a yearly salary: but I blame his _seeking_ it. The thing blameable is, the having it in his view, as the motive, or any part of the motive, for entering into this sacred office.

_Hic nigræ succus loliginis, hæc est Ærugo mera._

If preferment, or honour, or profit was in his eye, his _eye_ was not _single_. And our Lord knew no medium between a _single_ and an _evil eye_. The _eye_ therefore which is not _single_ is _evil_. It is a plain, adjudged case. He then that has any other design in undertaking or executing the office of a minister, than purely this, to glorify God and save souls, his eye is not _single_. Of consequence, it is _evil_; and therefore his _whole body_ must be _full of darkness. The light which is in_ him _is_ very _darkness_: darkness covers his whole soul: he has no solid peace: he has no blessing from God: And there is no fruit of his labours.

It is no wonder, that they who _see no harm_ in this, see no harm in adding one _living_ to another, and, if they can, another to that; yet still _wiping their mouth_, and saying, they _have done no evil_. In the very first step, their _eye_ was _not single_: therefore their mind was filled with darkness. So they stumble on still in the same mire, till their feet _stumble on the dark mountains_.

*It is pleaded indeed, That “a small living will not maintain a large family.” Maintain? How? It will not _cloath_ them _in purple and fine linen_; nor enable them to _fare sumptuously every day_. But will not the living _you_ have now, afford you and yours the plain necessaries, yea and conveniencies of life? Will it not maintain you in the frugal, Christian simplicity, which becomes a minister of _Christ_? It will not maintain you in pomp and grandeur, in elegant luxury, in fashionable sensuality. So much the better. If your eyes were open, whatever your income was, you would flee from these as from hell-fire.

It has been pleaded, secondly, “by having a larger income, I am able to do more good.” But dare you aver, in the presence of God, that it was _singly_ with this view, _only_ for this end, that you sought a larger income? If not, you are still condemned before God; your _eye_ was not _single_. Do not therefore quibble and evade. This was not your motive of acting. It was not the desire of doing more good, whether to the souls or bodies of men, it was not the love of God; (you know it was not, your own conscience is as a thousand witnesses) but it was _the love of money_, and _the desire of other things_, which animated you in this pursuit. If then the word of God is true, you are in darkness still: It fills and covers your soul.

I might add, a larger income does not necessarily imply a capacity of doing more _spiritual good_. And this is the highest kind of good. It is good to feed the hungry, to cloath the naked: But it is a far nobler good, to _save souls from death_, to _pluck_ poor _brands out of the burning_. And it is that to which you are peculiarly called, and to which you have solemnly promised to “bend all your studies and endeavours.” But you are by no means sure, that by adding a second living to your first, you shall be more capable of doing good in this kind, than you would have been, had you laid out all your time, and all your strength, on your first flock.

“However I shall be able to do more _temporal good_.” You are not sure even of this. _If riches encrease, they are increased that eat them._ Perhaps your expences may rise proportionably with your income. But if not, if you have a greater ability, shall you have a greater willingness to do good? You have no reason in the world to believe this. There are a thousand instances of the contrary. How many have less will, when they have more power? Now they _have_ more money, they _love_ it more. When they had little, they _did_ their _diligence gladly to give of that little_: but since they have _had much_, they are so far from _giving plenteously_, that they can hardly _afford_ to give at all.

“But by my having another living, I maintain a valuable man, who might otherwise want the necessaries of life.” I answer, 1. Was this your _whole_ and _sole_ motive, in seeking that other living? If not, this plea will not clear you from the charge: your _eye_ was _not single_. 2. If it was you may put it beyond dispute. You may prove at once the purity of your _intention_. Make that valuable man rector of one of your parishes, and you are clear before God and man.

But what can be pleaded for those who have two or more flocks, and take care of none of them? Who just look at them now and then for a few days, and then remove to a convenient distance, and say, _soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease; eat, drink, and be merry_?

*Some years ago I was asking a plain man, “Ought not _he who feeds the flock, to eat of the milk of the flock_?” He answered, “Friend, I have no objection to that. But what is that to him who _does not feed the flock_? He stands on the far side of the hedge, and feeds himself. It is another who feeds the flock. And ought _he_ to have the milk of the flock? What canst thou say for him? Truly, nothing at all. And he will have nothing to say for himself, when the great Shepherd shall pronounce that just sentence, _bind_ the unprofitable servant _hand and foot, and cast him into outer darkness_.”

I have dwelt the longer on this head, because a right _intention_ is the first point of all, and the most necessary of all; inasmuch as the want of this cannot be supplied by any thing else whatsoever. It is the setting out wrong; a fault never to be amended, unless you return to the place whence you came, and set out right. It is impossible therefore to lay too great stress upon a single eye, a pure _intention_; without which, all our sacrifice, our prayers, sermons and sacraments are an abomination to the Lord.

I cannot dismiss this important article, without touching upon one thing more. How many are _directly_ concerned therein, I leave to the searcher of hearts.

You have been settled in a living or a curacy for some time. You are now going to exchange it for another. Why do you do this? For what reason do you prefer this before your former living or curacy? “Why, I had but fifty pounds a year where I was before, and now I shall have an hundred.” And is this your real motive of acting? The true reason why you make the exchange? “It is: And is it not a sufficient reason?” Yes, for a Heathen; but not for one who calls himself a Christian.

*Perhaps a more gross infatuation than this, was never yet known upon earth. There goes one, who is commissioned to be an ambassador of Christ, a shepherd of never-dying souls, a watchman over the _Israel_ of God, a steward of the mysteries which angels desire to look into. Where is he going? “To _London_, to _Bristol_, to _Northampton_.” Why does he go thither? “To get more money.” A tolerable reason for driving an herd of bullocks to one market rather than the other; though if a drover does this, without any farther view, he acts as an Heathen, not a Christian. But what a reason for leaving the immortal souls, over whom the Holy Ghost had made you overseer! And yet this is the motive which not only influences in secret, but is acknowledged openly and without a blush! Nay, it is executed, justified, defended; and that not by a few, here and there, who are apparently void both of piety and shame; but by numbers of seemingly religious men, from one end of _England_ to the other!

2. Am I, secondly, such as I ought to be, with regard to my _affections_? I am _taken from among, and ordained for men, in things pertaining to God_. I stand between God and man, by the authority of the great Mediator, in the nearest and most endearing relation both to my Creator and my fellow-creatures. Have I accordingly given my heart to God, and to my brethren for his sake? _Do I love God with all my soul and strength?_ And my _neighbour_, every man as myself? Does this love swallow me up? Possess me whole? Constitute my supreme happiness? Does it animate all my passions and tempers, and regulate all my powers and faculties? Is it the spring which gives rise to all my thoughts, and governs all my words and actions? If it does, not unto me, but unto God be the praise. If it does not, God _be merciful to me a sinner_!

At least, do I feel such a concern for the glory of God, and such a thirst after the salvation of men, that I am ready to do any thing, however contrary to my natural inclination, to part with any thing, however agreeable to me, to suffer any thing, however grievous to flesh and blood, so I may save one soul from hell? Is this my ruling temper at all times and in all places? Does it make all my labour light? If not what a weariness is it? What a drudgery? Had I not far better hold the plough?

But is it possible this should be my ruling temper, if I still love the world? No certainly, _If I love the world, the love of the Father is not in me_. The love of God is not in me, if I love pleasure so called, or diversion. Neither is it in me, if I am a lover of honour or praise, or of dress, or of good eating and drinking. Nay, even indolence, or the love of ease, is inconsistent with the love of God.

What a creature then is a coveteous, an ambitious, a luxurious, an indolent, a diversion-loving clergyman? Is it any wonder that infidelity should encrease, where any of these are to be found? That many, comparing their spirit with their profession, should blaspheme that worthy name whereby they are called? But _woe be unto him by whom the offence cometh! It were good for that man if he had never been born._ It were good for him now, rather than he should continue to turn the lame out of the way, _that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the depth of the sea_!

3. May not you, who are of a better spirit consider, thirdly, am I such as I ought to be, with regard to my _practice_? Am I in my private life, wholly devoted to God? Am I intent upon this one thing, to do in every point _not my own will, but the will of him that sent me_? Do I carefully and resolutely abstain from every evil word and work? _From all appearance of evil?_ From all indifferent things, which might lay a stumbling block in the way of the weak? Am I zealous of good works? As I have time, do I do good to all men? And that in every kind, and in as high a degree as I am capable?

How do I behave in the public work whereunto I am called? In my pastoral character? Am I _a pattern_ to my _flock, in word, in behaviour, in love, in spirit, in faith and purity_? Is my _word_, my daily conversation, _always in grace_, always _meet to minister grace to the hearers_? Is my _behaviour_ suitable to the dignity of my _calling_? Do I walk as _Christ_ also walked? Does the _love_ of God and man not only fill my heart but shine through my whole conversation? Is the _spirit_, the temper which appears in all my words and actions, such as allows me to say with humble boldness, herein _ye be followers of me, as I am of_ Christ? Do all who have spiritual discernment take knowledge, (judging of the tree by its fruits) that _the life which I now live, I live by faith in the Son of_ God; and that _in_ all _simplicity and godly sincerity I have my conversation in the world_? Am I exemplarily _pure_ from all worldly desire? From all vile and vain affections? Is my life one continued labour of love? One tract of praising God and helping man? Do I in every thing see _him who is invisible_? And _beholding with open face the glory of the_ Lord, _am I changed into the same image from glory to glory, by the spirit of the_ Lord?

Brethren, is not this our calling, even as we are Christians? But more eminently as we are ministers of _Christ_? And why (I will not say, do we fall short, but why) are we satisfied with falling so short of it? Is there any necessity laid upon us, of sinking so infinitely below our calling? Who hath required this at our hands? Certainly not he by whose authority we minister. Is not his will the same with regard to us, as with regard to his first ambassadors? Is not his love, and is not his power still the same, as they were in the antient days? Know we not, that _Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever_! Why then may not _you_ be as _burning and as shining lights_, as those that shone seventeen hundred years ago? Do you desire to partake of the same burning love, of the same shining holiness? Surely you do. You cannot but be sensible, it is the greatest blessing which can be bestowed on any child of man. Do you design it? Aim at it? _Press on to_ this _mark of the prize of the high calling of_ God _in_ Christ Jesus? Do you constantly and earnestly pray for it; Then as the Lord liveth, ye shall attain. Only let us pray on, and _tarry at_ Jerusalem, _’till we be endued with power from on high_. Let us continue in all the ordinances of God, particularly in meditating on his word, in _denying ourselves, and taking up our cross daily_, and _as we have time doing good to all men_: and then assuredly _the great shepherd_ of us and our flocks, will _make_ us _perfect in every good work, to do his will, and work in us all that is well pleasing in his sight_! This is the desire and prayer of

_Your Brother and Servant in our common LORD_,

JOHN WESLEY.

LONDON,
_February 6, 1756_.

A short ACCOUNT
OF THE DEATH OF
THOMAS HITCHENS.

_Bisveal_, near _Redruth, Cornwall_.

1. MY son, _Thomas Hitchens_, was born _April 14, 1723_. He went to school till he was about ten years old. From school he went to work at the stamps in dressing of tin oar, in which employment he continued about six years. Afterwards he wrought in the tin works underground, till about a year before his death. Then he went to dress tin-leavings for me, having five or six boys under him. At the same time he plowed, sowed, mowed, reaped, and managed all my husbandry; understanding every thing both as to the tin and the land; so that we had scarce one in the neighbourhood like him.

2. He was from a child of a very sober and a very sweet behaviour, and remarkably dutiful to his parents. But about nineteen he began to go revellings and hurlings, and sometimes to be merry with his companions. Of this I now and then told him, but not sharply; for I counted both him and his brother mighty good young men: and was not a little proud, when people told me, “I had two likely sons, and as stout men as any in the parish.” I thought it best therefore to let him have his liberty: especially as I then saw no great harm in these things.

3. But he had done with these, from the hour he first heard the gospel of the grace of God. He then _chose to suffer affliction with the people of God, rather than to enjoy_ all _the pleasures of sin_. He had no fear, in the hottest of the persecution. While the mob were pulling down the house in which we used to meet, he stood at a small distance, all the time, being nothing terrified; encouraged his brother and said, “God will deliver us; only let us trust in him.” Nor was he at all moved, when the showers of stones obliged us to stop up all our windows with whole deals. One night we heard a great tumult and noise as of much people and many cries. And it was told us, they were at the house of one of our brethren, who lived about a quarter of a mile off: _Thomas_ did not take time to go the road way, (tho’ it was exceeding dark;) but ran directly through the grounds and over the hedges, ’till he came to the house. The mob, hearing the sound of feet, ran away, not one being left behind. So, said _Thomas_, the scripture is fulfilled. _One of you shall chase a thousand._ As he came into the house, the family too were preparing to run out of it. But he soon convinced them, they had no cause to fear, and they mightily rejoiced together, and praised God who had delivered them out of the hands of unreasonable and cruel men. All the windows and doors were dashed in pieces; but none of the family hurt at all, notwithstanding the vast quantities of stones, which had fallen on all sides of them. One very large stone they found in the cradle, close by a little child. But the child was not hurt. So that in all things they saw the hand of God was over them for good.

4. About eighteen months ago, while his brother _William_ and he were working in the pit with another man, the earth calved in upon the man, who cried out for help, and _Thomas_ ran toward the place where he was. In running his light went out: but he found the man by his voice, tho’ not till he was almost covered in. Before he had cleared him, the earth calved in again, and he was very near covered in himself. And but that it stopt, they knew not how, in one minute more they must both have perished together. _William_ hearing the noise, made up to the place, and in some time relieved them both. Of this _Thomas_ often made mention, praising God for his wonderful deliverance.

5. Some account of the manner wherein he found peace with God, (two or three months after his brother) I lately found in his pocket-book. The substance of it was this:

“In reading the three first chapters of St. _John_, while I was in much trouble and heaviness of soul, the Lord gave me great comfort; especially from these words, _To as many as believe in his name, to them gave he power to become the sons of_ God. But soon after I was stript of all, as though God had left me, a final cast-away. Nevertheless I went into my closet, and with a heavy heart said, Lord, I praise thee, that thou hast not given me over unto death. But how shall I appear before thee? While I spoke, the Lord answered, and applied these words, _I am thy righteousness_; which burst the cords that before kept my spirit down.”

6. He often complained, that when he found great joy, he was in the greatest danger both of pride and lightness: and therefore said, he had much rather, if it were the will of God, be always in a mourning state. He likewise found great temptation to pride when he was most blessed in speaking to the people. And this was the main reason of his not stirring up the gift of God which was in him.

7. He frequently repeated those words of St. _Paul_, _It is good for a man not to touch a woman_; and those of _Job_, _I have made a covenant with my eyes; why then should I think upon a maid_! He was very jealous over himself when he was in company with those of a different sex. And if no man besides himself was there, he generally quitted the company as soon as he could.

8. In the latter part of his life he was much grown in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. He sometimes saw, as he said, anger and pride in himself; but they had no power: neither had the love or desire of any creature; they were all in subjection under his feet. He was more and more dead to all earthly things, and filled with the fire of God’s love. The work of God had a deeper root in his heart and he was more settled and established in the grace of God.

9. After his brother’s death, he declared he could not rest through the earnestness of his desire to follow him. However in the mean time he put in practice what _Samuel_ spoke of, namely meeting all the family once a week. He reproved me and his mother in several things; but we could not reprove him in any. I could not convince him or _Samuel_ of sin, for two years or more.

10. On _Wednesday, September 10_, in the evening he found himself out of order; he went to bed something earlier than usual, and soon appeared to be in a high fever. But his confidence in God was still the same, and all his words, both that night and the next day, convinced all who came near him, that the peace of God continually ruled his heart.

11. On _Thursday_ evening, between nine and ten, his sister sitting by him said, “Lord, shall I call, and wilt thou not answer? No; it cannot be. Thou hast promised every one that asks in faith shall receive.” Then he began praying for his father and mother; for his brothers and sisters, and in particular for her that sat by him. “O my God marry her to thyself, make her all glorious within. Give her an undivided heart.” He then prayed for himself. “Now come O my God, and sanctify me wholly. Press me closer to thyself. Thou knowest, this is all my desire. Give me power to declare thy wonderous works before I go hence. _O death where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?_”

12. As _Mary Busvine_ came to the bedside he looked on her and said, “Now I am free. Now my heart is at liberty. I will praise my God as long as I have breath.” After speaking much to the same effect, he laid still a small time, and then broke out into exceeding loud, vehement prayer, his voice being quite altered and every sentence ♦pronounced with uncommon emphasis. He prayed first for all estates and conditions of men; that the church of Christ might spread over all the nations, that ten thousand times ten thousand might be converted to God, and all the people of the earth praise him. Then he prayed for all ministers of the gospel, from the greatest even to the least; especially for those whom God had lately employed to seek and save those that were lost in _Cornwall_. Afterwards he prayed for _John Trembath_ that he might live to the glory of God, who had brought him back from the gates of death, and might be a means of saving many souls from the bitter pains of eternal death. He then prayed for the society: “O Lord unite them as the heart of one man. O Lord, give them eyes to see whereinsoever they have departed from thee. O take from them the spirit of unthankfulness, and suffer them not to bite or devour one another. Heal thou their backslidings and spread over them the banner of thy love!”

♦ “pronunced” replaced with “pronounced”

13. With prayer there was continual praise intermixed. Sometimes he was blessing God for what he had done; then praying, “O my God finish thy work and take me into thy kingdom. Is this the day, O my God that I shall kiss my brother in paradise?――O Lord the angels have already praised thee at my conversion. Is this the day that I shall praise thee with them? Yes, O my God, I am now going to join them, to sing praises to thee for ever.”

Then he prayed with great earnestness for _Mary ♦Busvine_, and his own sister (both of whom he had in the beginning of the evening desired, to stay with him till he was in eternity) that they might never grow weary or faint in their minds, that God would send down the spirit of sanctification into their hearts, and give them resigned wills to bear whatever his providence should lay upon them: adding, they shall run and not be weary. I know we shall all meet together, and sing praises unto him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever.”

♦ “Bisvine” replaced with “Busvine” for consistency

He went on, “O how good is God to me, that he hath given me a tongue to praise him! A little while, yet a little while, and I shall praise him in heaven! O the goodness of God, that I a worm of the earth, shall stand there, upon mount _Sion_, with the hundred and forty and four thousand which _have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb_! Here is a privilege; here is a wonder: that I am made a son of God and a joint-heir with Christ, and I shall soon be where I shall behold him for ever! I, even I, who have been a backslider from God! But he has healed my backslidings and loved me freely.”

14. Soon after he said, “I love thee, O my God, Thou knowest that I love thee, because thou hast first loved me. O what manner of love is this, that God should stoop to love me! And he is coming to carry me home. O! I see thousands and ten thousands of angels! Do you not see them? O brother _Trembath_, do you not see what a glorious place I am going to; I am going to join with angels and arch-angels, and with all the company of heaven. I am going to reign with God, among ten thousands of his saints and to bask in the beams of his love for ever.”

Then looking on _Mary Busvine_, he said, “Can’t you see Jesus Christ coming, with an innumerable company of angels, and the golden banner display’d! They are coming to carry me to the bosom of my God. Open their eyes, O God, that they may see them. O what a good God have I served! I am sanctified, soul, body, and spirit. I am whiter than snow. I am washed in the blood of my Redeemer. Why, I am all God. My heart is full of God! O let them who hear me now, praise thee for ever and ever!”

“And yet I have been unfaithful to my God. For he gave me a gift, but I improved it not. I thought I was not worthy to stand in the highway and call sinners to repentance. But, O God, thou hast forgiven me this also, and I will preach thee now as long as I have breath.”

15. He ceased not thus praying and praising for an hour. His parents then coming in (early on _Friday_ morning) he said, “O my mother, you will not weep to see me going to such a loving God. My father and mother will not be backsliders. No; I know that God loves them, and that we shall all meet together in heaven, to praise him to all eternity.” Then looking on his brother, about twelve years old, he said, “Stand off, for fear you catch the distemper: for I fear you are not prepared to die, you have played away the grace of God. The harvest may come, before you are renewed in the image of God, and then how will you appear? Cry mightily to God. Strive with all your might. Call upon him, and God will hear.”

He then said, “Right my feet, that I may lie strait to resign my breath. When I am dead, do you sing me all the way, sing my body to the grave, lay me by my brother, and at the same time my spirit shall be joined to his, and to ten thousand times ten thousand of angels and spirits, singing praises to God and the Lamb for ever.”

16. Having spoken till he had no breath left, he paused; and in a short time, began again, “Hear now the words of a dying man, a living wonder, a Christian triumphing over death! O what a God do the Christians serve! What a God I have served! Praise him with me for ever. Behold the immense goodness of our God. O that all the world knew our God! He has now made my heart free that I may praise him, and I cannot stop while I have breath. Go, tell all the world of this. O brethren! What a good God do we serve! Be not afraid to tell it abroad! Go, shew it to all people, that they may come and serve him too.”

When he stopt speaking, the oppression on his breast returned. This he took notice of and said, “While I am praising God, my heart is free: but when I cease, I feel this load again. But I may well bear this; for this is all the hell I shall have.” Then he broke out,

“See a soul escape to bliss,
Keep the Christian festival.”

“He hath washed me and I am whiter than snow. God is mine, and I am God’s. I shall soon be with him.” Thus he continued, till he could speak no more.

A short ACCOUNT of the Death of
SAMUEL HITCHENS.

_Bisveal_, near _Redruth, Cornwall_.

1. MY son, _Samuel Hitchens_, was born on the 23d of _March 1725_. He was brought up to read and write. But he had almost forgot that, and every thing which is good, until God sent his ministers into these parts also, _to call sinners to repentance_. He was soon very deeply convinced of sin: particularly, in the beginning of _January, 1744_, while Mr. _Reeves_ was praying in my house. In the middle of our prayer, he fell to the ground, and cried so hard, that it greatly surprized us all. We were met, to take our leave of Mr. _Reeves_ and _John Daniel_, who were going to _Bristol_. Mr. _Reeves_ raised him up, and strove to comfort him. But he still cried out, “He was a lost, undone sinner.” In the morning they set out before it was day. _Samuel_ would needs go with them. He had not rode six miles, before God spoke peace to his soul. He rode about ten miles further, and then returned home rejoicing.

2. But it was not long before his faith was tried. The devil first strove to _reason_ him out of it. But he could not prevail. Then he stirred up the world against him. They came in multitudes, threatening to kill us all, and broke down the door and all the windows of the house, where we used to meet. After we had repaired these, they came and tore down the house itself, swearing they would also tear down the house also where we lived. And we were forced to stop up the chamber windows as well as we could, or we should have been stoned as we lay in our beds.

3. When this did not move him, they got a warrant, and came to press him for a soldier, much about the time that they had pressed the Rev. Mr. _Graves_ at _St. Just_, and carried him on board the man of war. And several of our neighbours who were quiet, industrious men, they did press, by virtue of that warrant, and carried them away from their work, and wives and families. But God suffered them not to touch him, though he was daily in his shop; and going up and down about his business.

4. But he was not so well aware of another snare which was laid for him: for soon after, having some thoughts of marriage, he gave way by little and little, till he found his heart was quite drawn away from God. Hereby he was quickly plunged into utter darkness of soul, and fell under stronger convictions than at first. He often told his brother, “he was in hell.” He wandered about in the fields by night, _seeking rest, but finding none_; and often threw himself on the earth, and beat his head against the ground. And once when his brother and several others were present, he cast himself on the ground, _roaring_ aloud _for the disquietness of his heart_, and beat and cut himself in several places.

5. He was quite delivered in a moment, in _December_ last, and the Lord was with him as at the first. But after this deliverance, he began more sensibly to feel his want of inward holiness. He had always walked very circumspectly, having a tender conscience, even in the smallest things, avoiding all light discourse, and finding constant power over anger, his bosom-sin. But this did not make him shut his eyes against the light, which shewed him the corruptions of his heart: And this knowledge, in particular, he was willing to learn, even from the meanest instrument. Nor did it cost any one much trouble to teach him; for he was indeed a _man that feared always_: being so jealous of his own heart and conduct, that half a sentence, sometimes a single word, or even a look, would shew him what was amiss. And reproof, instead of falling short, would frequently strike much deeper than was intended.

6. He was very zealous for the Lord, and had great opportunities of shewing it in his daily business. For abundance of tinners came to his shop (he being a smith by trade) both at morning and mid-day and in the evening, to have their tools repaired. These he continually exhorted and reproved, with great boldness and plainness of speech: and yet so meekly, that few of them went away angry, and the greater part were quite in love with him.

7. His common hours of sleep, were between eleven and five. He was very diligent in his labour. Yet he could not refrain from breaking it off now and then, to go up into a little room, which he had purposely ♦built just over his shop, and pour out his soul before God. But he soon made up the time he had thus employed, so that no necessary business was neglected.

♦ “just built” replaced with “built just” per Errata

8. He had frequent and sore conflicts with the enemy of souls, who was permitted to sift him with divers temptations. One of the most dreadful was, doubting the being of a God; but out of this also the Lord delivered him.

9. His love of souls cannot easily be described, especially those that were more immediately under his care. If any thing was amiss in his class or band, he often felt the weight, before he discovered the reason of it: and would lay it home to them with the greatest earnestness, till he had found out the accursed thing. But his love was by no means confined to these. He would lament over sinners of every kind, those especially who would not hear the call of God, with inexpressible grief and tenderness. The prophet _Jeremiah_ was in this his particular favourite. He used to tell much concerning, “The weeping prophet:” And was often saying to himself, _O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears! If ye will not hear, my soul shall weep for you in secret places._

10. By this eager love of souls, he was even constrained at the time we had no preacher among us, himself to exhort, first our own, and then other societies, _to continue in the grace of God_. But he had many sharp trials concerning this, fearing he should run before he was sent: till one day in _May_ last, being in deep distress, he went up into his room, threw himself down before God, and ceased not to wrestle with him in prayer, till all his doubts fled away, and he was fully convinced what was the will of God concerning him.

11. He often complained, that the world was a burthen to him, and he wanted to be wholly sequestered from it. But God convinced him at length, this was not right. “I now, said he, see plainly, there is such a thing as going through any business, and taking all prudent care, yet so as it shall only pass through our hands, without either troubling or intangling our hearts.”

12. For some time he was under another mistake. He was even to an extreme, negligent of his apparel, thinking it was below the character of a Christian, to have any, the least concern about it. But afterwards he was clearly convinced, that in this also he had gone too far, and that a Christian ought even by his outward neatness, to shew forth the purity of his mind.

13. The last great temptation into which he fell, was that of denying to the body even what was necessary for its support. Though he worked hard at his own business, and spent his strength very much, in all the intervals of his work, in going up and down and exhorting the societies, he could not be prevailed on to take any cordial, or any thing for the preserving of his lungs. For a considerable time before he was sick, he wholly abstained from flesh. And even other victuals he took at his father’s table, as if he was stealing it; and it seemed by his manner, as if he seldom or never eat so as to satisfy nature. The error of this was not shewed him, till a day or two before he was taken ill: when he was fully convinced, that seeing the body as well as the soul is committed to our charge, we ought with prudence and moderation to use all proper means, for preserving the one as well as the other.

14. This temptation, I believe, began and ended, while he walked in the broad light of God’s countenance: which he enjoyed with little intermission for two or three months before his last sickness. Indeed it increased very much toward the period of his life: He saw the corruptions that remained in his heart. But though they were not destroyed, yet they were fast bound, so that they could not hurt him. The only shadow of doubt which he had was this: Whether the peace he had was not too great, while sin remained? But this was but a few moments at a time. And “e’er he was aware (he said) his soul flew back and center’d in God.”

15. On _Wednesday, August 13_. _John Trembath_, being ill of a malignant fever, and as it was believed both by himself and others, ready to depart, desired to take his leave of the family. _Samuel_ stooped down to kiss him, and was immediately sensible he had caught the distemper. However he met the society in the evening, and was unusually vehement in prayer. _Thursday_, the 14th, he continued working at his trade, till about four in the afternoon. Being then obliged to leave off, he came in to his parents, and said, he was not well. He talked of sickness and death with as much ease as of going to sleep, and mostly with a smiling countenance. Towards evening he took his bed: As he lay down he said, “Once I laid on this bed, full of guilt and fears; but now they are all taken away. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, for sending his messengers into these parts. Now is the harvest come. Now I shall reap the end of all my prayers.”

16. About nine his mother and I came to him, and he said, “mother, you are troubled about many things. I know you have a great cross now sickness is in the house, over and above the care of this large family. Father, you must bear your part. There is a want in you both. You are religious singly: But you are not free in confessing your faults and temptations one to another. It would be a great help, if you would set apart a time for this, for the family in general, once a week. God has made you an instrument of keeping his little flock together in this place. I believe you do it with all your heart. Let us do it chearfully, and he will greatly bless us all.”

17. He passed the night without sleep; but continually praising God, and exhorting all that came in his sight. To one who stood by him he said, “I opened my bible to-day on the cxii. _Psalm_. Take the prayer-book and find it.” She did so, and he took especial notice of the 6th, 7th, and 8th verses. “’Tis sweet (said he) to speak those words experimentally: _He shall never be moved. He will not be afraid of any evil tidings; for his heart standeth fast, believing in the Lord. His heart is established, and will not shrink, until he shall see his desire upon his enemies._”

18. In the morning, _Friday, 15_. He was full of the spirit of grace, and of supplication: always expressing an unshaken confidence in God, and making strong intercession for the church. “O said he, could I but see the church of Christ, in peace and unity! Of one heart, and of one mind! then I should die rejoicing indeed!”

19. Three of the leaders of classes coming in, he said, “We have been neglectful in one thing, in not going more diligently after backsliders, and bringing back the sheep that were lost. O it is a great thing, to bring one soul unto the Lord! Let me desire you to remember it for the time to come.” One of them asked, “Shall I pray for you?” He said, “Yes: but do not pray for my recovery.” After praying, he asked, “How do you find yourself now?” He said, “Clear of doubt: full of God.”

20. The man coming to him who used to work with him in the shop, he said, “_John_, how is the case between God and your soul? Of late you have not been so earnest as you was. Why do you not join in the society? I believe you are kept from outward sin. But that will not do.” A few days after the man came to me, desiring to be admitted into the society, and saying, “He hoped the words would never go out of his mind, and that he should never rest till he knew the Lord.”

21. Speaking of some who were intangled with inordinate affection, and talked of their “wanting to know the will of God,” he said, “When we can give up our own wills, then we shall know the will of God. And when that is known and carefully followed, all temptations of this kind are at an end.”

22. He asked one¹ who was much with him, “Are you willing to die?” And on her saying, “If I knew it was the will of God, I could lie down and not leave a wish behind:” He answered, “I think I am drawn two ways. I have a strong desire to _depart and to be with Christ_; but sometimes I am drawn a little backward, not knowing whether my _abiding_ awhile _in the flesh_, may not be for the glory of God. These are two opposite points. When they are brought to meet, my way will lie strait before me.”

¹ The same person who wrote part of this relation.

23. He often made her repeat those lines of Dr. _Watts_’s:

“Say, live for ever, glorious King,
Born to redeem and strong to save!”

And catch’d the two next from her, repeating with triumph,

“Then ask the monster, Where’s his sting?
And where’s thy victory, boasting grave?”

24. Those three verses in one of the funeral hymns he was almost continually repeating,

“Thou know’st, in the spirit of prayer,
We groan thy appearing to see,
Resign’d to the burden we bear,
But longing to triumph with thee.
’Tis good at thy word to be here,
’Tis better in thee to be gone,
And see thee in glory appear,
And rise to a share of thy throne.

“To mourn for thy coming is sweet,
To weep at thy longer delay:
But thou whom we hasten to meet
Shall chase all our sorrows away.
The tears shall be wip’d from our eyes,
When thee we behold in the cloud,
And echo the joys of the skies,
And shout to the trumpet of God.

“Come then to thy languishing bride,
Who went’st to prepare us a place,
Receive us with thee to abide,
And rest in thy mercy’s embrace.
Our heaven of heavens be this,
Thy fulness of mercy to prove,
Implung’d in the glorious abyss,
And lost in the ocean of love.”

25. _Elizabeth Thomas_ being with him on _Friday_ night, he asked her to pray, and said, “I can pour out my whole heart, and soul, and spirit, and life in prayer.” She asked, “Can you rejoice in God?” He replied, “Yes; I have not the least doubt of my salvation. _I know that my Redeemer liveth_, and that I shall stand before him in that day. I know my Saviour is now at the right hand of God, and that he is praying for me. I see the gates of heaven stand open, and Jesus stands with open arms to receive me.” Then he cried, “Let me go! I must be gone!” She asked him, “Whither he would go?” He said, “To my God;” and burst out, “Come, Lord Jesus! The harvest is ready. Come, Lord, and put in the sickle!”

26. The next morning, _Saturday 16_. his sweats stopped. All proper means were used to recover them. He said, “I believe they will not return. But I have left all to God. My heart is full of God. I know he will _appear the second time, without sin, unto salvation_.”

After lying a short time he broke out into vehement prayer, first for the church, and then for himself: crying out aloud, “Open the heavens, O my God, and come down into my soul! Come, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, and plunge me into God! Carry me ye angels, to the bosom of my God. Bear me to the feet of Jesus!” Then with smiles of triumph, not to be exprest, he cried, “Jesus is coming! Now I shall see the unclouded face of Jesus! ’Tis finish’d! ’Tis finish’d! Jesus is come! Jesus is come!

“For us is prepar’d
The angelical guard,
The convoy attends
A minist’ring host of invisible friends!

“Ready-wing’d for their flight
To the regions of light
The horses are come,
The chariots of _Israel_ to carry me home!”

*One called aloud to his mother to come. He said, “You may call; but God will not stop one moment.” He spake no more till he resigned his spirit into the hands of God.

A short ACCOUNT
Of the LIFE and DEATH of
NATHANAEL OTHEN,

Who was shot in _Dover-Castle, October 26, 1757_.

1. I WAS born at _Ogham_ in _Hampshire_, of honest parents, and when about thirteen years old, went to service to a farmer near _Ogham_, whom I served faithfully for a year. I was then for a year and a half postilion to the _Exeter_ stage-coach. Afterwards I went up to _London_, and hired myself again, in the place of a postilion. It was here I was soon led into drunkenness, and by that means not long after into lewdness. Leaving this place after six months, I hired myself for another year as a postilion, at the _White-Horse_ in _Piccadilly_. Here I got more money, but could keep none, squandering it all away in drink and debauchery. My mistress reproving me for this, I was so enraged, that I went and entered on board a privateer. I went down as far as _Exeter_, in my way to _Plymouth_, in order to embark. But my mind then changed: so I came back to _London_, and hired myself in the _Hay-Market_ as a second coachman. I soon quitted this place, and served Lord _H――――_ in the same post for a year and a half, who when he wanted me no longer, recommended me to Colonel _B――――_ with whom I had large wages. But I wasted all among lewd women, ’till I embarked with my master for _Holland_.

2. In eight days we arrived at _Williamstadt_. Thence we went to _Breda_, where I was again drawn into drunkenness. My master hearing ♦of it, desired the groom to reprove me, which made me reflect on my past life. I went out into the fields, and went to prayers, repeating the prayers which I had been taught by my parents. And this I did many times while we staid at _Breda_: And I had more power over sin than formerly.

♦ duplicate word “of” removed

3. We now removed to _Mastricht_. Soon after my master parted with the horses I took care of, and recommended me to another master. But I stayed with him only a fortnight, before I relapsed into drunkenness, and was persuaded to inlist among the _Welch_ Fusileers, in the year 1747. I remained at camp till _Michaelmas_: thence we marched to _Rudenburgh_, where I remained all the winter. On the first day of _March, 1748_, we marched to _Ruremond_, where we encamped, tho’ the weather was cold and the snow deep. After the cessation of arms, we removed from place to place, till in _November_ we came to _Williamstadt_.