maining comfort. Then I said, "Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away.

Nov. 4, 1825, closed twenty years of my life, and it was a day of much reflection and solemnity. As it was the wish of the relatives, I preached the funeral sermon of the young man that had been called away so suddenly. A numerous congregation attended, and about thirty mourners wept at the grave of their deceased friend; while the multitude that stood around dropped many a tear. I never was present on a more impressive occasion. "Blessed is the man

that

19

IS READY: for man knoweth not his time." After this, I attended a few meetings in these parts, and formed some acquaintance with several brethren of the Wayne quarterly meeting, which had been just organized. The number of members was small, yet, there appeared to be some humble, faithful souls among them. I enjoyed some interesting seasons, yet generally my spirit continued in bondage, and my labours still seemed to be almost useless. But as I was confident my commission had been received from the Lord, I dared not forbear to warn the wicked. I continued my journey to New-York, and held several meetings by the way, still labouring under trials, and doubting whether I should ever again enjoy the settled peace that once blessed my soul. Yet the oath that I made on the day of my espousal, was engraven on my heart, and I felt no inclination to violate it; but when tempted to give up my hope, I would say in the language of Peter: "Lord, to whom shall I go? thou hast the words of eternal life. At Hanover, N. Y., I took my gig which I left there when going to Ohio, and proceeding on my way homeward, held a few meetings in the western part of the

state.

About the first of Dec., 1825, I arrived at my father's in Junius, having been absent about fourteen months, and was received affectionately. But finding that my brother Friend had left home only a day or two before, to go to Michigan, expecting to be absent one or two years, I followed him immediately about seventy miles, and overtook him. We had a

pleasant meeting, and returned thanks to God. He concluded to delay his journey; and accompanied me home.

CHAPTER XIV.

My trials and labours for seven months after my return from Ohio.

Mv soul continued in a furnace of affliction. My hours passed in gloom, and my days were numbered in much sorrow. I attended one or two meetings in adjacent towns, but such heaviness oppressed me, that I felt confident my labour was in vain. My de-' pression increased, and I dreaded to visit my brethren, expecting they would be greatly disappointed in me-and their disappointment I thought, would fill me with anguish. Believing my life was of little use to the church or to the world, and thinking it mattered little where I spent my time, I engaged a school in my father's neighbourhood, and commenced teaching about the 10th of December. I made stated appointments twice a week in this vicinity, and once a week in an adjacent neighbourhood, and occasionally preached in other places, particularly in Galen. Great darkness covered the people:-oft I went to my appointments with a heavy heart, and returned with the burden still increased. I enjoyed the society of my father's family, and my three brothers attended the school. These were pleasant temporal privileges, but they could not make me happy while my Saviour hid his face, and I could not see sinners turning to God. In solitary places I wept, and prayed the Lord once more to dispel my darkness and shine into my heart; but still I found no answer to my petitions. I read the Lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah, and applied such passages as these to my case: "I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of his wrath. He hath led me and brought me into darkness but not into light. Surely against me is he

turned; he turneth his hand against me all the day. He hath set me in dark places as they that be dead of old. He hath hedged me about that I cannot get out: He hath made my chain heavy. Also when I ery and shout, he shutteth out my prayer.-And I said, My strength and my hope is perished from the Lord." Lam. 3:1-8,18. Still, in this state of affiction, I knew God was just in all his ways, and that he would be just, if, for my unfaithfulness and my sins, he should hide his face for ever. Yet the Lord strengthened me, so that I felt no inclination to abandon the cause of Christ, or yield my hope in the promises of God: but I did seriously think of retiring from a public life; for all my preaching seemed like sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." I reviewed my experience and my evidences of acceptance with God. I could not reject them. Again I examined my evidences of having been called to preach the gospel. I could not disbelieve. And now what could I do? This commission was not " a light thing" that I might lay aside by my own will; and as the mandate, "Go ye—and preach the gospel," had not been repealed, I dared make no other conclusion than this; that I would preach according to my ability, and leave the event with God. I tried to content myself by reflecting on the scripture that saith: "No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." And though no animation or joy should ever again cheer my countenance, I resolved to live at the feet of my Saviour, and I said with the Psalmist: "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee."

In Jan., 1826, I left my school to attend the Benton quarterly meeting, holden at Flint Creek, in Middlesex. During my visit to Ohio, there had been a great revival in this vicinity, and nearly one hundred had been baptized in the town by Elder Wire. I expected the converts would be generally present and much in the Spirit; and should I speak in the meeting, my testimony would be cold and useless. So I

concluded to be a disconsolate spectator, and entered the crowded assembly, hoping to find a seat in some corner, and pass unobserved. But immediately every eye was fixed on me, and the countenances of all seemed to tell, that they had heard of "the boy preacher" in the days of his gladness; and that now they expected to hear for themselves. I thought within myself, 'Alas! you will be disappointed-and this assembly will spy out my barrenness.' The preacher who was addressing the people, stopped and invited me to take a seat with the ministers. I was filled with confusion, hid my face, and wept on account of my poverty. After becoming a little composed, I looked around on the assembly, and saw perhaps one hundred happy converts. They were singing one of the songs of Zion-heaven seemed to shine in their countenances-and for a few minutes, my soul was melted and charmed with the beautiful sight. After this they spoke in quick succession and with much power; but it reminded me of a touching contrastthe difference between their state and mine. Again my poverty pressed upon me, as a burden that was insupportable, and I wept as though my tears were a fountain. At length I arose and began to speak;my heart broke-and, "Glory to God," in this very hour the winds of Heaven began to blow on my soul. The clouds that had covered me five months, now fled away. The glory of God beamed upon me, and again I tasted the happiness that had formerly gladdened my spirit. O, how easy it was to speak the word of the Lord. A few hours after this, I willingly accepted an invitation to preach; and if ever the Lord helped me, he did in this discourse. It seemed as though all I had to do was to receive the word immediately from God, and speak it to the people. The assembly was greatly melted, and I felt myself exceedingly abased and humbled before God. His presence was glorious and awful. After this, many spoke, and we enjoyed a refreshing time. Now it seemed as though I was in a new world; and if I ever felt thankful to God, I did for this deliver

ance.

Why I had been thus forsaken of the Lord, had been a query which I was unable to solve. But now it appeared that God had especially designed this visitation for the trial of my faith, and to strengthen others. As Whitfield says, "Ministers should be tempted in all things like unto brethren, that they may be able experimentally to succour those that are tempted." Again, I found that this affliction had worked for my good, in that it had weaned me from the world, taught me to feel my dependance on God, and had humbled my pride.

On the Sabbath, meeting was appointed in two places, but the heart of the people was together, and they crowded into one assembly. This was a day of Emmanuel's power, and a time of great joy. Again it fell to my lot to speak to the people, and I feared that my clouds would return; but it pleased the Lord to give me as much freedom as I enjoyed the day before, and again, in my own sight, I sunk down as nothing before the Lord. O blessed be his name, for his great mercy to an unworthy child. After meeting, I returned to my school happy in God. Now I regretted that I had engaged the school, for the Lord's harvest appeared inviting, and I wished to be labouring therein. In my public communications, however, the Spirit gave me freedom, and I enjoyed much peace in opening and closing my school by prayer, and in frequently speaking to my scholars.

me.

In the early part of March, I was called to sit on a council of business in Sodus, appointed by the Benton quarterly meeting. The council proposed to set me apart to the work whereunto the Lord had called This was unexpected. Considering my youth, and that the request had not been presented by the church of which I was a member, I was doubtful respecting my duty. But after making supplication to God for direction, the elder of the church in Junius being present, I consented to their proposal on the 5th of March, 1826. After my return to Junius, the church accepted my new credentials and gave me a letter accordingly. Shortly afterward, on a day appointed for communion in Junius, it unexpectedly fell