pathized, whom he was always ready to relieve according to his ability; and for the relief of whom he was often intrusted with considerable sums of money by some friends who were rich and benevolent, and whose almoner he was. He was a man of strict integrity, of exemplary conduct, and of great zeal for the glory of God, and the salvation of souls. This made him instant in season and out of season, in his endeavours to spread the gospel of Christ, which he well knew to be the grand means God had made choice of, both to save mankind, and to advance his own glory. Nor did he confine his efforts for this purpose to the pulpit, but in private conversation, and in all companies where it could with propriety be done, he laboured to diffuse the odour of the knowledge of God, and of the truths of his precious word. I have known few persons more careful than he was to improve conversation to the edification of those present: or more apt to teach, to reprove, to rebuke, and exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine. And as his life was consistent with his teaching, and he was an example to believers in word, in behaviour, in love, in spirit, in faith, in purity," what he advanced was generally well received, and attended with a blessing. 66 13. As the work of God in general was dear to him, so especially the welfare of the Methodist connexion. This, with the doctrine and discipline thereof, lay very near his heart indeed; and, when at any time or place, matters wore a gloomy aspect, and circumstances arose which seemed to militate against the safety or prosperity of our cause, it touched him to the quick, and he was very prone to yield to excessive grief. And this perhaps was his great failing, for that he had failings I do not deny, for I do not deny that he was man. His grief on these occasions sometimes wore the appearance of, and was mistaken for, anger; and perhaps I may allow that, in a sense, it was anger, even anger similar to that which He felt, who, we are informed, "looked round about on the multitude with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts." During these thirty years that I have known him, I never knew any thing affect him so deeply, as what he thought touched the cause of God, and affected the welfare of the Methodist connexion. 14. But I shall tire out your patience. One thing more, it seems of importance I should observe, before I give you an account of his last sickness and death. When he was labouring at Rotherham, in the year 1757, he tells us the Lord greatly deepened his work in his soul. He was delivered from those wrong tempers and affections which he had long and sensibly groaned under. He felt an entire disengagedness from every creature, with an entire devotedness to God; and from that moment found unspeakable pleasure in doing the will of God in all things; having also power to do it. And as he had the approbation of his own conscience, so he believed also he had the approbation of God. His heart then was undivided, and his eye single to the glory of God, at all times, and in all places; and he was inspired with that fervent zeal for the glory of God, and the good of souls, which swallowed up every other care and consideration. And above all, he had, he says, uninterrupted communion with God, sleeping and waking. He seems to have retained this close union with Christ, and conformity to him, for some time, but by no means till he wrote the account (which as I said was in the year 1780.) I suppose, however, he frequently enjoyed it, and that it was his chief support under the many trials he met with from affliction and pain, from mobs, by scoffs and insults, by dirt, stones, and brickbats, with which he was sometimes attacked when about his Master's work; from false brethren, and from seeing the work of God hindered, and the societies and congregations divided and scattered through strife and contention. 15. Speaking on this subject, he says, "I find abundant cause to praise God for the support he has given me, under various trials, and the wonderful deliverance he has granted me from them. I praise him, for so preserving me from impatience in them that the enemy has had no room to speak reproachfully. In all he has given me free access to the throne of grace; often with strong confidence of deliverance. I bless God that the trials I have met with, even from my brethren, have never given me an inclination to decline the work, nor for any time together to be less active in it. I always considered I had nothing which I had not received, and that the design of the Giver was, that all should be used, with singleness of heart, to please God and not man. I praise him, that though some of the affairs I have been engaged in, being quite new to me, have so deeply employed my thoughts as sometimes to divert me from that degree of communion with God, in which is my only happiness, and without which my soul can never be at rest; yet he gives me always to see, that the fulness of the promise is every Christian's privilege, and that this, and every other branch of salvation, is to be received now by faith.” 16. Such were his views, desires, and resolutions twenty years ago, and I believe they were not materially altered after that time. What his spirit and conduct were of late, many of you know better than I. He has been your minister, and the superintendent of the societies in this city and neighbourhood, these two last years, and you have had frequent opportunities of observing how he conducted himself, and, which is the chief evidence of the power of grace, with what degree of patience and resignation he supported the tedious, complicated, and painful affliction wherewith it pleased God to exercise and perfect him. For it was necessary that he, like his Master, should be perfected through sufferings. His sufferings, indeed, for some years, have, occasionally, been great, but for six or eight months nearly uninterrupted. At the time I last saw him, the time referred to before, his affliction was great indeed: and what I was then a witness to I shall never forget. The moment his dear friend, Mr. Pawson, and I entered the room, his pale face, his emaciated body, and his death-like appearance, struck and affected us exceedingly, and for some minutes we both remained silent and wept. At length he attempted to address us, and with a low whisper, not being able to speak above his breath, he said, "Through the mercy of God I have got hither, by a miracle; but why I am here I know not, for I seem to be of no use." I said, "You are here that you may be an example of patience, by suffering the will of God, as you have long been of diligence in doing it; and doubtless you will find this a harder duty than the other." "Indeed I do," said he, "but I find the grace of God sufficient for this also." He then expressed himself in a most clear, pertinent, and feeling manner concerning our redemption by Christ, as I have mentioned above, and of his whole dependence being on this alone, and not on any thing he had done or suffered, for salvation. We were both much affected while he discoursed on this subject. After this he spoke concerning the Methodist connexion in a way which showed how much his soul was wrapped up in the prosperity of it, and gave us many cautions and advices, urging us especially to attend, at the Conference, to the state of the poor preachers, many of whom, he said, he knew to be in great want and distress. After he had quite spent himself with speaking to us, on these and some other subjects, we kneeled down to pray, as we had reason to believe for the last time, but we could not speak much. We could do little more than weep in silence, and give vent to our tears and sighs. We then bid him farewell. Mr. Pawson, indeed, might intend to see him again the next day, but I took my leave of him, not expecting to see him again, as it has happened, till the resurrection of the just. 17. He continued to be patient and resigned, as he had been all along, from the first attack of his disorder, and retained his confidence in God, and his hope of everlasting life, to the very last; exemplifying, in a glorious manner, in his experience and behaviour, the following well-known and striking description of a triumphant death: "Thro' nature's wreck, thro' vanquished agonies, (Like the stars struggling thro' the midnight gloom,) No, not in death, the mortal to be found! His conduct is a legacy for all, Richer than Mammon's for his single heir. On Saturday night, August 16, speaking to his much esteemed friend, Mr. Robert Spence of York, he said, "What I told you upon your first visiting me after my arrival at York, I still feel to be a truth, viz. that I have no where to look, nor any thing else to depend upon for salvation, but Christ; and my confidence in Him is firm as a rock. My faith has frequently been assaulted, during my affliction, in an unusual manner, but it has never shrunk in the least degree: I feel a blessed evidence of my acceptance, and a sacred sense of God's presence being with me always. How comfortable are these words, he that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out. God so loved that he us, his gave only Son to be the propitiation for us. There is no other name, no other Redeemer; on him my soul relies. Mine is a hope of more than forty years; it cannot easily be shaken." On Monday, the 18th, being in extreme anguish, he said, "I long to be gone; I long to be gone;" and desired me to pray for his dismission. After rising from my knees, I said that this could only be asked with submission; he sweetly and reverently answered, "With great submission; with great submission." After pausing a while, he said, "I am happy in Jesus, but my sufferings are very great ;" and added, "Rivers of life divine I see, And trees of paradise:" "O let me be there:-I'll be there, there, there: O that it might be this night; O hide me among these trees :-) -Here may I have an abiding place! "Tis there, with the lambs of thy flock;--- "But if I may not have the privilege, the happiness, the honour, of being with thee this night, may I be resigned to thy will. O that exercise of praise and thanksgiving! It has been the delight of my soul-my chief exercise on earth. I have loved thy word, thy law, thy people, and I still love them.. "Let it not my Lord displease, That I would die to be his guest." "Jesus answers, thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.-Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. Jesus has made me all fair," Again, when labouring under the most extreme pain, anguish, and anxiety, (for his complicated afflictions racked his body with the most torturing sufferings, and bowed down his formerly strong spirits with the heaviest depression) he most affectingly cried out, "O God, my heart is broken within me. Why are thy chariot-wheels so long in coming? Lord, grant me patience;" and then, as though his prayers were immediately answered, he calmly said, "To patient faith the prize is sure, And they that to the end endure The cross, shall wear the crown." On Wednesday morning, the 20th, after a night of inexpressible suffering, he was composed, and slumbered a little. When he awoke, he seemed surprised to find himself still in the body, and said, "Why did you call me back? I have been in paradise. As surely as I shall go there again, I have been in heaven this morning." Then, after taking leave of, and giving his dying advice to the family, he turned to Mrs. Mather, and said, << as for you, my dear, I can say nothing to you that I have not already said; but, (pointing to the Bible) that book is yours, and the Author of it." On this night, amongst many other heavenly breathings, I observed him to say, "O Jesus, whom I have loved, whom I do love, in whom I delight, I surrender myself unto thee." This was a night of peculiar affliction, which he bore with the utmost degree of Christian patience. On Friday, the 22d, about two hours before his departure, and nearly the last words he uttered, he was heard to say, "I now know that I have not sought thee in vain; I have not-I have not-I have not ;" and then, "O thou that caused light to shine out of darkness, shine upon my soul with the light of the knowledge of the Son of God. That name, above every name, for ever dear; it dispels |