THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN TAKEN BY PRAYER 9/10 (WILLIAM HUNTINGTON)

This thing staggered me exceedingly, as I could not reconcile the Lord's astonishing love for me with the saints' hatred against me. On the next Lord's Day, I went out of the meeting and walked to and fro from Hampton Wick to Hampton Court Green.

And it being cold weather, and the snow lying on the ground, I could not help shedding many tears over my hard fate. I thought that such pure holy Christians as they were would have rejoiced at seeing such a poor miserable sinner as myself brought out of despair and madness, as I found my soul was desirous of seeing sinners converted to the faith of Christ. "But, alas!" said I, "I am wrong - their religion is not like mine, I am deluded-they, precious souls, look like angels; they cannot be wrong, I am the deluded one - I could take them all in my bosom, but they hate me with a perfect hatred - Oh! that I had never come among them! - Am I a peace-maker? No; a divider and a scatterer; they fly from me, they will not sit with me - 'with such a one. no, not to eat!' - I am the man, I have divided the flock of God; one goes one way, and another another. Oh that I had never come among them to create this division! - 'He that is not with me is against me, and he that gathereth not with me (says the Saviour) scattereth.' I am the man. - Oh that such an unworthy wretch as I had but kept my proper distance! I might have gone safely to heaven through the blood of the Saviour, without defiling or scattering so pure a body of saints. But, alas! I always was of a forward and forward turn of mind, and this will prove in the end my own decay."

When I went home at night all was well again between Christ and my conscience; but what all this meant I knew not. To suspect their religion I could not, they seemed so holy; and, indeed, I thought that every individual who carried a Bible and a hymn book must surely be at the very portals of heaven.

Soon after this, I moved to Ewell in Surrey, where a man and his wife seemed to be wrought upon by my private conversation with them. They invited me to their house; and I often went and read, expounded, and prayed with them. Others seeing a change wrought in these, came also and I expounded to them likewise. This soon raised persecution against me; I, therefore, longed to get to Kingston to inform them of it, thinking (as Job says) that "pity should be showed souls in trouble." But, alas! when I mentioned speaking to the people, the holy being, as I supposed him to be, took down the book of Ezekiel, and read the chapter about the duty of a watchman, and of warning sinners, or else their blood would be required at the watchman's hand, &c. This sent me home almost distracted; and I was tempted to curse the day that ever I saw the meeting, to bring upon my soul this perpetual cross, and make every Lord's day a day of "lamentation, mourning, and woe." On my road home, I groaned till I nearly fainted; and was almost in despair to think that such a wretch as I should open my mouth for God, and pursue the way of presumption, which would bring the blood of all the unbelieving sinners, who heard me, upon my guilty head. I therefore begged God for ten thousand pardons and promised never to attempt the like again. But, when the night came, the woman came up - "William, arise, the house is full of people, who are come to hear you;" and these words pursued me, "He that puts his hand to the plow, and looks back, is not fit for the kingdom of God." Oh, what a sore travail! I went weeping and mourning down to the house, begging God to pardon me for this presumption; and promising, if he would deliver me from this enthralment, that I would embark no more in this dangerous work. When I began to speak, my adversaries' mouths were stopped, and much power and liberty were given to me. By this I was comforted: but, when I began to consider what the next Lord's day would bring forth, that cast me into my old trembling disorder again.

Accordingly, the next Lord's day I went into the vestry, and asked the minister what he thought of my speaking to the people! He set the work forth to be such a momentous task as almost drove me out of my senses. I went home mourning in sackcloth and ashes, promising never to open my mouth any more if God would pardon this crime. The next week two or three young men who lived at Epsom, and who had been awakened, heard of me, and came to see me. With them, I conversed freely, and they seemed to understand me perfectly but were much amazed to see me in so poor a lodging, and such sorry habiliments (for I had on my working clothes). After prayer, they left me but soon came to visit me again; and, as fresh matter arose in my mind by daily meditations, I communicated it to them whenever they came to see me; till, in a short time, began to speak regularly to them twice a week.

It came to pass one Lord's day, as I was sitting in the vestry, that the people called the good man, who sat in the meeting, to go to prayer with them in the vestry He came in, and, looking very hard at me, asked me if I could not pray with the people. I told him I could pray in my family, and in private, but I had not words to pray before old Christians. He replied very roughly that people who had felt so much as I talked of, surely knew how to pray. I had heard him speak in prayer before, and his words I found were placed in order. But, as to my prayers, they were a jumble of various offerings mixed together. If I had sinned, I confessed it - if I received comfort in confession, I praised the Lord - and, if troubles were removed, I then began to bless the Almighty. My prayers consisted of many scraps, and were subject to various changes; but this good man's prayers were properly arranged, therefore he was the most proper person to speak before a society of old Christians. I thought God had not as yet furnished me with gifts or abilities to speak in public, so I rather chose not to attempt it. On my road home, I found my soul in hard labor again; and was tempted to believe that I was not right yet, because I could not pray as that good man could; therefore I groaned in the disquietude of my soul, fearing that I was deceived. "My language," said I, "they cannot understand, it is so bad - I have told them what I felt in my soul; they hate to hear it - the good man says he wonders I cannot pray before people, as I talk so much about what Jesus Christ has done for me - Alas! I cannot pray before people - I am certainly wrong. - yet, oh that I could but pray before people as that holy man can!" But when I came to the Saviour again in prayer, he appeared still precious to my soul and gave me much liberty to speak and to leave my complaints with him. I found I could get any thing that I asked for my soul's good from the Saviour, though my poor petitions were so unconnected. But I wanted a gift of prayer, thinking that the people would then be more reconciled to me; especially that good man who fled from the vestry, and who I conceived to be so bright a saint. I therefore entreated God for that gift, as I longed to see them show regard for me as a sinner saved. Indeed I would have done any thing to have satisfied them, I found such a regard for them, as they appeared so holy in my sight.

When the next Lord's day arrived I went there, hoping that God would grant me the gift of prayer, and enable me to speak with propriety, if I should be asked; as I thought they looked so cold on me because I could not pray. There came that day a very able minister to Kingston, and he showed us the difference between saving grace and gifts. As to all he said about grace, I could find in my own soul, and more too; but when he came to shew gifts without grace, I found I had none of them; and when he came to shew the danger of gifts to graceless souls, I found my heart burn within me for joy. I fought the whole discourse was sent to me, and I received it as such. When I returned home, I repented in dust and ashes for asking for gifts of God when there was such danger attending them; and my soul was drawn out to love the Lord more than ever, for his great goodness to his unworthy creature. "O Lord," said I, "gifts, I find, are dangerous! thou in pity has withheld them from me - grace is saving, that thou hast freely bestowed - in private prayer, thou givest me the liberty to speak to thee, and givest my soul every spiritual blessing that I ask for; but thou wouldst not indulge me with that, lest it should lift me up with pride. Oh the goodness of my God, not to answer my prayer when I asked for that which hypocrites have obtained as well as the most sincere saints!"

It happened, a few weeks after I heard the above-mentioned discourse, that we were disappointed by a preacher on the Lord's day at Kingston. The people in the forenoon, when the congregation was assembled, finding no preacher was come, proposed to sing a hymn, and speak in prayer, before the congregation. I hoped they would not invite me to speak, as I had blessed God for withholding gifts from me. However they asked me in my turn to speak in prayer: I accordingly went trembling to prayer; and I found God gave me "a door of utterance" immediately, which continued with me from that day forward. I then found what the good man meant by the danger of gifts, by what I felt in my heart after a few encomiums had been passed on me. However, I was determined not to venture any farther with my gift of utterance than I was forced by the invitation of believers or an impulse from God.

I was one day reading the New Testament, and these words came with power," For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth." The imputed righteousness of Christ was a doctrine that I never had a proper sight of before. I had laid fast hold of Jesus as my "all in all;" but now the Lord led me sweetly into the various branches of his finished salvation. The revelation of Christ's righteousness to me was like a second conversion. I traced my Bible perpetually after that blessed doctrine, and found it revealed both through the Old and New Testament; and wherever I found it I marked it with ink, till I had a cloud of gospel witnesses on my side on its behalf. Indeed it appeared in a most glorious light; I saw it was the vail in which our spiritual Isaac receives his spouse - the skirt that covers all that lie at the foot of Boaz - the garment the Saviour made for Adam - and the skin that covers the dry bones after the Spirit has entered into them. Thus the dear Redeemer, who was born under the law, fulfills that law, which says, "He that hath two coats, let him impart one to him that has none." The Saviour fulfills this precept; he clothes the naked, as well as feeds the hungry. For many weeks did my soul seek after and rejoice in this most soul-comforting and soul-establishing doctrine; and, since I have been in the ministry, I have been astonished to hear people ridiculing and exclaiming against the everlasting righteousness of the Son of God: but the self- righteous ever did and ever will. No man can ever appear righteous before God till he is brought, like Job, to abhor himself "in dust and ashes;" or, with Paul, to call his own merit, "but dung and dross for the excellency of Christ."

All the time Job held fast his own righteousness God kept him on the dunghill; a very fit throne for a sinner in such a robe: but, when he confessed he was vile, then God made a high priest of him; and told his friends to carry their sacrifices to his servant Job, and that he should pray for them, for him would God accept. But to return -

Another temptation beset me; which was, that I should one day or other fall away from this profession, and then there would be no more sacrifice for sin. This temptation at times staggered me much. My adversary never attempted to dispute me out of my reception of the Holy Ghost, but suggested that some had sinned against him - that others had tasted the heavenly gift; and that if they fell away, it was impossible to renew them again to repentance - and "let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall" - and "be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life" - and again, "but he that endureth to the end shall be saved."

These things drove me to look over my Bible again for those passages which would secure, or assure, my heart of a safe arrival at my journey's end; and my ever-blessed Redeemer condescended to confirm my mind in this particular also, The glorious doctrine of the saints' perseverance was sweetly revealed to my soul; and though hypocrites fall away and perish, yet it is never said that the just finally perish; for" the righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall grow stronger and stronger;" "the law of his God is in his heart, none of his steps shall slide." Most delightfully did this blessed doctrine appear to me - "None shall pluck them out of my hands." Most delightfully, too, has God secured our souls in the way of regeneration. This glorious doctrine shines throughout the Bible, and it shone sweetly in my heart. Thus God enabled me to "cleanse my way, by taking heed thereto, according to his word:" he led my faith sweetly into the happy enjoyment of that blessed doctrine, which secures our safe arrival at glory. But to return -

I still continued to give exhortations at times at Ewell Marsh, and the people who came to hear me began to increase in number. A young man, who came from Epsom, it seems, was wrought upon by my ministry; till at last I had four young men who attended me from the same place, and who, I believe, now fear God. A poor man at Ewell, who also attended, I believe still continues in the faith; and his wife, who was a violent persecutor, and a very profane swearer, being persuaded to come and hear me once, went home wondering at my memory, instead of giving the glory to God. A few nights after, she dreamed that the world was at an end: in her distress, she cried out, "There is light at Ewell Marsh;" which was the place where I lived and preached. From this circumstance, she constantly attended me from that time forward, nor did I ever hear her swear again: whether she continues the same, I know not. She had a poor daughter also, who was a cripple and had never walked, I believe, who seemed effectually called by grace.

A young man, named Shepherd, who attended me for some time, of whom I had some hope, and who I endeavored to teach to read, as he had never learned letters, after having associated with me for a few months, prevailed on by his father to leave me and go to the alehouse, and so was dragged again into the service of Satan. After this, he would never meet me, if he could possibly avoid it. But I once got hold of him, and talked to him very sharply; when his countenance fell, and he gave me no answer. This young man tried me severely; I grieved for him at my heart and thought his father had acted the most awful part. I could not banish the thoughts of this young apostate from my mind day or night, especially as I was very zealous for Christ and his cause in those early days. But God delivered me from that anxiety by a dream. I dreamed one night that I was contending warmly with this young man and that I was reproving him for obeying the voice of his wicked father in matters of conscience, where his soul was at stake. I thought he laughed at me; and while he was laughing the end of the world came. I thought I saw the earth stagger like a drunkard, and afterward float like the waves of the sea; it began to roll wave after wave, ready to take its flight; as it is written, "Before whose face the heavens and the earth fled away." I looked hard at him in my dream, and said "The end of the world is come: now, John, you will see whether you or I am right." And immediately his face turned pale, he sunk down into the earth, and I saw him no more. This circumstance convinced me that my endeavors to reclaim him were all in vain. I saw him about two years after at Thames Ditton; he was then in the Surrey militia, and in the broad way to the pit of destruction.

I continued exhorting the people at Ewell till I disturbed almost the whole parish, and raised a very great outcry against myself and the simple few that followed me. But, as they increased, I waxed rather bolder: and one night I thought I would venture to take a text, which I accordingly did, out of the Song of Solomon; "A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed," Song, iv. 12. After this I found my heart like a springing well. The next morning passages of scripture flowed in upon my mind, till I longed to pour them out; and various heads of discourse would naturally arise from various texts. Indeed the scriptures were my meditation day and night.

When I left work I used to take my book and walk out into the corn fields, sit down among the standing corn, and there read and pray, and talk to my Redeemer, who seemed to shew his loving kindness so conspicuously to me. In the lonely fields, and under the hedges, I used to continue till nine or ten o'clock in the evening, and it was like bathing in the river of pleasure. In the morning I generally arose very early, and had most delightful soul-humbling times in prayer; which sent me to my labor its peace, knowing and feeling that all things stood fair between Christ and my conscience: when this was the ease, I knew all was well.

At times my comforts would abate, and my persecuting enemies would increase. Then I longed for the Lord's day, in hopes that some of the brethren would comfort and encourage me in the work, as they saw several souls awakened under me. But I was mistaken; for that good man, whom I supposed to be the brightest saint, would pick out such chapters to read to the people as he thought would distress me most. I also spoke to one or two of the ministers. But I found this inscription written on the foreheads of all earthly comforters - No refuge here.

This sent me mourning home in sackcloth and ashes, beseeching God never to let me presume to speak in his name anymore. I begged His Majesty's pardon and promised never to presume to open my mouth in his name anymore if he would forgive me. I now was convinced that I was wrong; the ministering servant at Kingston, and his righteous children, disapproved of it. I was convinced that I had presumed too much. That night I went home, determined never to preach anymore. It was on the Lord's day evening that I used at times to preach. However, that evening I did not go to the place of meeting; but went to my lodging, comforting myself that I had done with it, and hoping that the people of Kingston would now leave off smiting me.

As soon as I had promised myself peace and safety, then trouble came; for I heard my poor daughter in the faith coming up stairs, and then I began to tremble. In she came, crying out "William, come, are you not ready? There are all the church- singers come up to hear you, and to dispute with you; the house is full of people, and you must come directly." I ran and hid myself behind an old curtain to pray, but I could not. "Oh, what have I suffered this day for preaching, and now must I rush into that dangerous work again? I have no room to go by myself to pray to God. If I preach, I am terrified to death by God's children, who tell me not to run before I am sent. I have put my hand to the plough; and, if I look back, I am not fit for the kingdom of God." Then these words came with power, "Hie that is ashamed of me and my words, of him will I be ashamed before the angels of God." I got up and went down in the spirit of one desperate, and found the house full of people indeed. I preached from this text; "Upon this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." I fell to work upon my text, and God gave me great liberty in the work, and a mouth and wisdom which they could not gainsay or resist. It was preconcerted that they were to contradict me if I had spoken any thing wrong; however, God stopped their mouths and opened mine.

After that night I continued preaching two or three times a week, and God kept me very happy amidst all the opposition and threats I then met with. On the Lord's Day, I generally went to the meeting very happy, but was sure to go wounded home; therefore I hated the place and dreaded the arrival of the Lord's day, and yet I had no power to stay away. However, I had many arrows at times shot at me from the pulpit by some good men, who had been reformed that I ran before I was sent. I then endeavored narrowly to watch their doctrine, and to compare it with my own, and I generally found that there lay a mine of choice experience under most of the texts which I heard handled, and that sweet mine was seldom touched by them: they could not get into it for want of a deeper experience. A man cannot dive unless he has been used to the deep waters. There was not one in twenty of those who came to preach there that could describe my soul travail or my blessed deliverance. These considerations rendered their arrows of no force against me; I was more and more established in my own mind that I was intended for the ministry; and this persuasion never left me until I appeared as a public minister of the gospel.

It happened one Lord's day at Kingston that the preacher did not come. A gentleman was there from London, who had been informed of my preaching at Ewell; he was a proprietor of the meeting, and sent for me into the vestry, desiring me to ascend the pulpit; I refused; he insisted on it, and his wife scolded me for refusing. However, I would not take the Bible, nor a text, nor would I go into the pulpit; but I went into the desk, and gave an exhortation, full of fear and trembling. The Lord seemed to bless it, and the people appeared satisfied, desiring me to preach m the afternoon, which I refused.

I was amazed to see how the good man (who always shone so bright in my eyes) was nettled when I went into the desk; I thought he would have gone out of the meeting. I began to watch narrowly what all this could be for; why he should shew such displeasure against me, as I had great regard for him, though for above a twelve-month, he had behaved very shy to me.

But I soon found out the cause of it. He seemed to be a stranger to the pardon of sin: therefore my speaking of receiving the atonement cut up all his religion and provoked him to jealousy. This I soon perceived; and it staggered me much, as I had often heard people say, that that man had grace in his very face. And indeed so he had; and in his feet too, to all appearance; insomuch that I have often envied him, and wished to be like him. But, alas! alas! God looketh not as man looketh; man looketh at the outward appearance, but God looketh at the heart. This convinced me that it was not a gloomy countenance, a circumspect foot, and a faltering speech, that constitute a saint; for these might he found where pride, self-righteousness, enmity against the truth, and the power of it, unbelief, and every other heart-sin, reign and rule. And this I clearly saw in many characters. The more external shew of sanctity a man has, the farther he is from God; if his conscience is not purged by the blood of Christ, the publican and harlot are nigher the kingdom of heaven than he is. How it staggered me, when I found so many of these holy beings, as I thought them, so ignorant of the pardon of sin! Alas, what is religion without it? A man must be pardoned or damned; and to persuade men they are pardoned, when they are not, is fighting against the verdict of their own consciences.

God having now opened my eyes to see these things, I envied none of them any longer; but blessed God with all my heart for teaching me himself, without the use of public means; and was angry with myself for desiring to appear as bright a Christian as some, whom I now saw to be as much filled with the sin of covetousness as any usurer in the world. However, if the Bible is true (and sure I am it is), such cannot enter into the kingdom of God. "Alas!" said I, "how few are there in the way of regeneration! How small is the bulk of gospel professors, when compared to the world! And not one in five of these can give any account of the pardon of sin, though God says he will pardon whom he reserves, and give them a heart to know it." But to return -

I continued preaching at Ewell Marsh, and the Lord was with me. My congregation increased till the little thatched house was full of hearers, and the Lord often visited us with precious gales from the everlasting hills and made that little thatched hovel a Bethel to us; yea, the house of God in reality, and the very gates of heaven! I was requested by a young man, who attended my ministry, to take a journey with him to Hersham, the place of his nativity. I accordingly went with him; and found that the gospel had been lately preached there and that many people assembled at times to hear the word, when the Lord was pleased to send a minister among them. They desired and persuaded me to preach to them, to which I agreed. They then informed the people of it, and a great many assembled together, but before the hour arrived I found much fear and trembling. I now desired to retire for a while in private. A woman took me into a chamber where there was a picture of Mr. Whitefield, a man whom I had never seen, but of whom I had heard much talk. Alas! thought I, am I going to engage in the work of that great man? How shall I get through it? I meditated on this till I was at my wit's end. But, after wrestling with the Lord in prayer, I recovered myself a little, and delivered a discourse from this text, "Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, and behold king Solomon, with the crown wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart," Song, iii. 11. I was overwhelmed with fear and shame; which towards the close began to wear off. Speaking before so many people rather emboldened me for the future, and gave me greater liberty in my delivery.

I continued to preach at Ewell twice a week, and my little flock increased much. I found that the more I preached, the more matter was poured into my heart, and my judgment gradually ripened. We met with a deal of opposition, and many threatenings from the wicked; but God never suffered any of them to hurt us. One evening I had been delivering a discourse, in which I experienced much warmth and enlargement of heart, and it seemed a glorious season to many of my hearers (and indeed we had many such seasons, for God made our little hill a delightful sunshiny bank:) but the next morning I awoke, like Samson when his head was shorn by the Philistines, bereft of all my peace and comfort; my Lord was gone, and all was gone, "For the good man had taken the bag of money with him, and was to come again at the time appointed, Prov. vii. 20. When that all pointed day was to be I knew not. Oh, how terrible is the Lord's departure to a soul that has been indulged with sweet access to him, and familiarity with him! it is like the second death. Never did I feet more distress; I quarreled with the sin, for shining on me. "Alas!" said I, "why dost thou shine on my worthless carcass, seeing my Saviour is gone? He is gone, and I am left alone. My God is gone, and when I shall enjoy his sweet presence again I know not. Oh, ye angels, you can see him; you always enjoy the smiles of his sweet face; your residence is a Penuel to all eternity; you can sing his praise without being molested by a tempting devil, or clogged with a body of sin and death! But I cannot approach at this time without both. Oh that I could change stations with you! Yea, I even envy you the glorious rays of my dear Redeemer. Oh, ye birds, sing not to me; try not to charm my ears with your notes; you have no sin; you can sing when you please! But my singing days are over; my God is gone, and all is gone. Oh that I could leave my work, and go into some wood! I would there wander after him, like Elijah when he wandered to Horeh, till I starved and died. I would kneel down and pray till he comforted my soul if I prayed myself to death. But, alas! I am yoked; I am chained up every hour of the day to labor for a bit of bread, and cannot get half enough to support nature! And what is this body of sin and death good for, if God has left the soul? Why should I labor to feed this body, seeing my God is gone? Nay, I would rather die than live, if my God comes no more to me. Oh, my blessed Saviour, why didst thou woo me, and draw my soul to love thee so dearly? Was it done to shew me the loss of infinite blessedness, and to make my hell the hotter? Oh, the pains thou didst take to engage my soul! Thou didst capture every thought, and engross my warmest affections! Thou weaned me from every earthly comfort, nor wouldest thou let me rest till thou hadst got possession of my whole heart! I confessed my manifold sins to thee, and even told thee to damn me, for I deserved it. Oh, didst thou give me that glorious manifestation and deliverance on purpose to entangle me in my own confessions, and then to send me to hell under my own sentence? O, Lord, we poor mortals often labor hard to entangle each other's affections and cruelly triumph where we have made a conquest. But surely my dear Redeemer will not prove inconstant in his love! No; he changes not; he cannot deceive. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" Far be it from God that he should do iniquity! Far be it from the dear Redeemer to deceive the soul that is sick of love! Work! I cannot, I will not work; my God is gone, I will go after him." Down I threw my scythe on the grass, and set off into the fields and woods, in search of the best of friends; but in vain for that day. "I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave me no answer."

I was now tempted to believe that I had sinned against the Holy Ghost and that there was no pardon for me either in this world or the next. My heart was too hard to pray, and my eyes too dry to weep. I continued so till the ensuing sabbath, and the temptation pursued me on the road to Kingston.

"Alas!" said I, "why do I hear the word of God? There it no pardon for sin against the Holy Ghost. I had better go back: none will condole with me at Kingston; they have envied me my happiness; and some of them have behaved as if they would chase me back to the gates of hell again, from whence I came. They have acted with me as the midwife did with Pharez when she quarreled with him for getting loose; 'How hast thou broke forth? This breach be upon thee,' Gen. xxxwii. 29." In short, I turned round to go back, and thought I would give all up and go no more; for there "was no more sacrifice for sin," seeing I had been guilty of "the great transgression." I resolved, however, to go once more, and then bid a farewell to all hearing for ever. When I came to the meeting I found Mr. Brookbanks was to preach, under whom I had at limes received comfort; I was therefore glad to see him go into the pulpit. As he was discoursing on the love of God, he spoke thus: "Some of you have tasted this love of God; your souls have been filled with comfort; you have thought that your comforts would never abate, and you have nursed your sweet frames till you have lost them; and now Satan tempts you to think that you have sinned against the Holy Ghost, and you think God changes as your frames change." Thus he touched my case and hit the right nail on the head. This I knew was from God, as I had not mentioned it to any body. Satan immediately fled, my soul escaped, and I ascended the mount of transfiguration, where I had been before.

O how sweet a blessing is an experimental ministry! "Whether Paul or Apollos, Cephas or Christ, life or death, are all ours.' I tarried there all day and heard him again in the evening. As I returned home, about ten o'clock in the night, I had joy and peace beyond expression. It was in the winter season, and very dark. When I came into the fields between Kingston Common and Ewell Marsh, where I had been tempted to go back, I found the Saviour's presence so precious to my soul, that I could not help bantering the devil. "In this place," said I, "you told me I had sinned against the Holy Ghost, and that it was in vain for me to go and hear the word any more; there was no more comfort nor pardon for me! O thou wretch!" I stamped with my foot, and struck the ground with my stick, saying, "Come now, come now, the Lord is with me; yea, 'compass me about like bees, and in the name of my God I will destroy you.'" Thus I stood still and challenged Satan, and was ready to say, as the apostles did, "the devils are subject to us through thy name." I then traveled on, talking to and enjoying my dear Redeemer, till I thought the woods and hedges must hear my voice.

In the following week, to the best of my recollection, being at my labor, I had a most wonderful view of that city, or heavenly Jerusalem, mentioned in the book of Revelation. It was in the day-time, and I had an open vision of it. God showed me its sweet foundations, its columns, its gates, its illustrious light; and the oaths, promises, and atoning blood of the Lamb, that secure it; yea, every perfection of the Deity stands as its eternal security. I shall not enlarge, lest I give another offense. But I saw the standing of God's elect so firm, that I looked up, wept, and blessed the Saviour, and said, "I stand as firm as thy throne, and have the same basis;" and this would confirm it, "He that trusteth in the Lord, shall be as Mount Zion, that cannot be moved;" the reason is because the Most High establishes her.

O the sweet love of the dear Redeemer! the infinite worth of his great salvation! We shall never know the worth of Christ till we are filled with all the fullness of God in heaven, and have a perfect knowledge of the state of the damned in hell. Then, but not till then, shall we know the invaluable worth of the discriminating grace of the dear Redeemer. But to return -

The sweetest moments I enjoyed were generally early in the morning at prayer. This sweet privilege I experienced near a twelve-month, some few intervals excepted: and the evenings were almost as sweet to me in reading the Bible. But I was suddenly bereft of these blessed privileges by a state of lethargy, which quite overwhelmed me. As soon as I took the Bible in hand I found myself grow drowsy. If I prayed I was ready to fall asleep on my knees. In the morning I seldom could wake till it was time for me to be at work, and then I could not stop to pray; this sent me groaning to work with hardness of heart. For many weeks I labored under this lethargic frame, and could not overcome it. I thought I would go to bed at seven o'clock, rather than lie so long in the morning at the expense of such sweet communion with Christ. I used formerly to wake at three o'clock, but now I could not rise till six. However, all my efforts to overcome it were in vain. It came in my mind to pray against it, but I thought it could not be a temptation; I knew beloved sleep was the gift of God; Psal. cxxvii. 2; this I had enjoyed: but this was not beloved sleep, for I hated it. However, at last, I prayed to God to wake me at such an hour, and he did; but I found myself so overwhelmed that I could not rise. It was amazing how this frame troubled and foiled me, till this scripture came to my mind, "Without me ye can do nothing." And indeed I found it so; and therefore prayed the Lord to take it away, which he accordingly did.

A little while after this, the poor man, who had been awakened under my ministry, came to me, and said, "I know not what to do." I asked him, "What is the matter?" He replied, "We are obliged, two or three times a week, to get up at three o'clock to lead the carriage with powder; but I have such a sleepiness comes upon me that I cannot wake in time; and the men tell me that I sit up preaching and praying till I cannot get up to do my business, so that other people are obliged to do my work. I have gone to bed," continued he, "by seven o'clock, in order to rise early, but I cannot overcome it." I told him how I had been beset, and advised him to pray: he did so and got rid of it. Reader, beware of a sleepy devil, for he is as bad as any. When once you begin to cry, "A little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to sleep; then shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man," Prov. vi. 10, 11.

I had long entertained a desire to live or labor under some family that feared God, as those I then worked for seemed to be sworn enemies to him. Besides, I thought that I should be instructed in the ways of God more than I was at that time. Here I had no old Christian to converse with, none to minister a word of comfort to me. I had all these young ones to feed, whether I was happy or miserable; but none of them could afford any comfort to me. At times I secretly prayed to the Lord that he would send me to labour among people that feared his name. I often found a check within me when I put up these petitions, as I appeared discontented in that station wherein God had placed me. However, it so happened that my master turned me out of the garden because I refused to work on the Lord's day. I then preached my farewell sermon to my poor little flock, whom I dearly loved. My text was, "Through faith, he kept the Passover and the sprinkling of blood, lest he that destroyed the firstborn should touch them," Heb. xi. 28. The poor souls were drowned in tears, and we had a most affecting scene at parting. One of them, who a little before had said that he should not be sorry when I was gone, because I wanted to keep them so strict, now that the last night arrived, seemed more affected than any of the rest; for he did not go to bed the whole night, but sat up in the kitchen at my lodgings: and I believe his conscience smote him, for he had exercised my patience severely by his instability.

In the morning I walked abroad and wept at the thoughts of leaving the little thatched cottage, where I had dwelt and experienced so many sweet moments. I could not help telling the dear Redeemer that there would be none to proclaim his name, and contend for his honor when I was gone; they would abuse his name, and treat his children as they pleased unless his blessed Majesty would be entreated to send some preacher among them. "Thus I spake as a child, I thought as a child, and I understood as a child," 1 Cor. xiii. 11.

I now went to Ditton, and there carried coals; where, as my master and mistress were old professors, I thought I should be in heaven. I watched narrowly to know whether the Lord was with me on the road, and I found he was. If I had lost his presence I should have been sure that I had taken the wrong step; but, as I experienced him as precious to me and present with me, all was well.

When I was settled in my place I found my affections run after those poor souls whom I had left at Ewell; I cherished a greater love towards them than to my own family; and used to cry and pray to God for them every time I was in private. Indeed I could not help going to Ewell now and then on the Wednesday evening, after I had done work, to preach to them: and at eleven or twelve o'clock at night, they would walk a mile or two with me on my road home, when we used to part with prayer on the wild common. But this door was soon shut. The good man left his house, and another of my poor children would have opened his door, but his master informed him, that if he did, he would turn him and his family into the street; so I could go no more there, having a place to preach in.

I now expected a heaven upon earth, as I was employed by old Christians; but I soon found my mistake, and repented in dust and ashes for praying to leave Ewell. My master used to cavil against the doctrine of election, imputed righteousness, and the final perseverance of the saints. These were the very truths that the God of heaven had revealed to my soul as her eternal establishment. This man had made a profession of Christ for thirty years, though he was so blind to the plan of salvation. And, what was still worse, he was at war with the very basis of the covenant of grace. What shall we say to these things? Why, we must say as Paul did, "Such are ever learning, and yet never able to come to the knowledge of the truth," 2 Tim. iii. 7.

How staggering was this to my feeble soul, especially as I expected to meet with gospel liberty and stability in its greatest perfection! But, alas! I found no such religion as I had left behind me; wherefore I wished myself again at Ewell, to feed on barley bread; for I began to be sick of this sort of Christianity. My mistress would talk to me about religion all day long if opportunity offered; but my heart was barred against all she said; for her whole conversation was to inform me what great feats she had done for the cause of God, while my delightful element was informing people what God had done for me; therefore we could no more unite in heart than the north and south poles.

I soon perceived that she envied my happiness: but I believe conscience at times secretly accused her of hypocrisy, and then prayers were called for; that is, I must kneel down and pray to God for her as soon as any opportunity offered. When I began to watch her conduct I suspected her awful state; which made me go to prayer with her very reluctantly, till at last my soul loathed it. I could compare my gift of prayer to nothing but David's harp. Every time the devil got hold of Saul David must play on the harp - the devil would not be charmed without music. And every time my mistress had any qualms of conscience I must pray. In short, the devil that I had to deal with was "transformed into an angel of light" - a religious devil; therefore he must be charmed with prayer.

I was astonished to see a woman, who had taken so much pains to bring the gospel to different places - to receive the ministers of it into her house - and to make such a blaze in the world about religion - act in the manner she did. So profoundly ignorant was she, as not to know the meaning of any one passage in the word of God. I once asked her if ever God had given her any answers to her prayers; or if she had received the atonement of Christ in her conscience? All the answer I could get was this: "When we first came into this business we were poor, and I prayed to God to help us forward in the world; and these words came to my mind afterward, 'Though thy beginning is small, thy latter end shall increase.'" I told her these words were only a promise of temporal things, for she only prayed for such. But this was all I could get from her; faith, repentance, and the new birth were left quite out of the question. May God deliver my soul from such an empty profession as this! But to return -

I was invited to preach the word of God at Woking, &e. Accordingly, I went; and God greatly blessed it to many souls. He generally sent me groaning to the work, and returning home with prayer to him to forgive me if I ran before I was sent, which I was often tempted to suspect. This made me promise never to go again: but, when the Lord's day came, I had no more power to stay away than I had to create a world. I have sometimes been so filled with terror at the thoughts of running from the work, that I have trembled in myself, and have gone all the way in chains: but, when I began to speak, my bondage forsook me and fled; and I evidently saw that God blessed the word greatly. However, as soon as I got on my road home I found my chains return again; or, as Paul says, I went "bound in the spirit." My temptations would come on as usual, and then I begged that God would never let me presume to speak in his name again if it was displeasing to him.

Having gone on a few months this way, I was determined to give it up, and not to go on in the manner I then did, suffering with hard labor, extreme Poverty, being buffeted by the devil, and traveling all night on the road, in order to get home soon enough to do my business. Accordingly, when the next Lord's day came, I set off another way. However, I paid dear for this; and therefore I went again to Nineveh, and preached what God ordered me.

For two or three years I continued in this situation, doubting at times of my call to the work, even though I had twenty or thirty seals to my ministry. I had the same travail in my soul, to make my call to the ministry clear, as I had to "make my calling and election sure:" and it is visible in the scriptures that others had the same. Moses disputed the point with the Lord, and several miracles were wrought to confirm him. Jeremiah tells God he could not speak, for he was a child; and at last curses the day of his birth, and the man that first brought tidings of it. And my poor brother Jonah traveled both by sea and land to escape, though we all know he made a very bad voyage of it. Therefore he, who is a stranger to this internal call from God to the work of the ministry, has a right to doubt of his call being from him. "How shall they call on him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall one preach except he be sent?" And again, "No man taketh this office upon himself, but he that was called of God, as was Aaron." And, if God calls him, he will let him know it. God made it known to all Israel that Samuel was established as a prophet of the Lord. And God will, in our days, make all his spiritual Israel know who are and who are not ministers of Christ, by their experience and power. If they have neither experience nor power, they never were sent of God; as it is written, "But I am full of power by the Spirit of the Lord? Mic. iii. 8. This I find is Paul's challenge to the false apostles; "But I will come unto you shortly if the Lord will; and will know not the speech (mark that - not the speech) of them which are puffed up, but the power. For the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power," I Cor. iv. 19, 20. Experience also is needful for the ministerial function; for "it is experience that worketh hope;" and a good hope emboldens the preacher; as it is written, "Hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost given unto us." Luther says that temptation, meditation, and prayer, make a minister. A minister chosen of men only may for a time please men; but, if he is chosen of Christ, he will labour to "please him who hath chosen him to be soldier," 2 Tim. ii. 4.

It being known that I was extremely poor, now and then a friend would offer me a shilling or two; which I dared not take, as Satan used to follow me with this scripture, "Taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind," I Pet. v. 2. To guard against this lucre, I was ready to starve myself, until the Lord applied these words to my heart, "He that preaches the gospel shall live of the gospel:" and again, "The laborer is worthy of his hire." During the time I preached freely I expected to have cut off every occasion from them that sought occasion, as Paul says. But, notwithstanding my over-care to cut off occasions, my enemies found out means enough to bespatter me. God shewed me that it was not in my power to escape the cross; for tidings were brought to me one day that I had stripped a poor man's house of all his furniture, not leaving the poor soul so much as a candlestick! This touched my feelings exceedingly, and I rebelled against the cross. Soon after it was spread abroad that I had stripped another poor man's house of all the bacon he had, leaving his poor children starving. These things still called for patience; and I found the Saviour's words verified, "He that will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me." This I found required patience, and I had but little; for one report succeeding another made me (like Job) almost ready to curse my day.

Soon after this, it was rumored that I had stolen a goose from the common, which belonged to a poor man. And shortly after another report was propagated, that I had stolen some roasting pigs out of a poor man's pound; that several people had watched me, and seen me carry them off in a bag. After this a letter was sent to me by a man who made a profession of religion (and merely a profession); in which he expressed great grief at hearing that I preached for money; and wondered much at it, as he knew me to be a man fearing God, and thought I would stand at a distance from sullying the glory of Christ, &c. At this time I was in debt, and almost starved to death for want of necessaries; as might justly be expected, having five in family to maintain on the scanty pittance of ten shillings per week. All this time I had given my ministerial labours freely; therefore I felt this letter as a cruel stroke. Since God had lifted up my head, I called on the person who wrote me that letter, to beg a trifle towards building a chapel at Worpolsdon, in Surrey, not doubting that he would willingly grant my request, being a man of property, a single man, and one who (by his letter) appeared such a foe to covetousness. However, I could not drag a mite from his coffers; which convinced me that, when he wrote the letter, agreeable to the Kentish proverb, he measured my corn by his own bushel. But, after all our measuring, we must come to God's standard; and God declares that covetousness is the thorn that chokes the gospel, Mark, iv. 7; that the possessors of it are the friends of the world, James, iv. 4; the enemies of God, James iv. 4; the slaves of the earth, Eccl. iv. 8; the porters of thick clay, Hab. ii. 6; the grinders of the poor, Isaiah, iii. 15; the pests of society, Eccl. ix. 8; the oppressors of a nation, Eccl. iv. 1; the scandal of the church of God, John, xii. 6; the objects of God's hatred, Psal. x. 3; the servants of mammon, Matt. vi. 24; the idolaters of the world, Eph. v. 5; and the heirs of damnation, Job, xxiv. 18; Psal. xvii. l4; Luke, xvi. 25. But to return -

I found I had work enough to bear my daily cross, and that all my efforts to gain the esteem of the world were in vain. And indeed it is little better than striving against the decrees of God to labor for it; for God has declared we shall be hated of all men for his name's sake; nor is it in our power to prevent it. However, this scripture was of great comfort to me; "Blessed are ye when men shall revile and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you, falsely, for my sake: rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven; for in like manner did they persecute the prophets which were before you," &c. These scandals reconciled me to the cross and emboldened me so much in my ministry, that I became like a brazen wall or an iron pillar therefore I felt very little of it afterward. My mistress, perceiving me called forth to the ministry, labored hard to pull me down from the mount; and I believe she envied me my sweet enjoyment of Christ as much as Saul envied the happiness of Samuel and David. She desired me to go with her to Kingston, to what they called an experience meeting, where her brother was the examiner. Accordingly, I went. When we came there we found several people assembled together and sat down with them. There being nobody to speak to the people, I opened my mouth, and spake to them from the scriptures by way of exhortation, till her brother should arrive: but my mistress desired me to hold my peace, as I did not understand their order. I accordingly obeyed her voice, and said no more; so we had a silent meeting for nearly an hour. At last her brother came, and began to examine as round with respect to a work of grace on our souls. When he came to me, I answered him in a few particulars, which I knew a man must experience, if he were saved. It seemed rather to puzzle him. He said, "Some people take fancy for faith." I told him faith would bring into the conscience pardon and peace from the Redeemer's blood, but fancy could not - fancy floated in the head, but faith worked in the heart, I partly knew what I was brought there for, and therefore was determined to defend the gospel which I had received from the Lord, and the Spirit's work on my soul. As I suspected that they intended to rob me of my comfort, I was determined to withstand them. Accordingly, he leveled his arrows at my consolations, and I leveled mine at a luke-warm profession: he quoted old authors, and I quoted the Bible, and of course, silenced him. This disappointed my mistress much. On the road home, she asked me what I thought of her brother? I told her I knew not what he was in God's covenant, but he was dead in soul, if God's words were true, of which truth I had no doubt for my part. I went no more to that meeting, for it appeared to me to be nothing but a nursery for hypocrites; and so it proved. It was casting pearls before swine, and teaching hypocrites to speak about the operations of the Holy Ghost; which they only learned of others, but had no experience of themselves. An experience meeting ought to be managed by an experienced man, who can "separate the vile from the precious," otherwise he will do the devil's work; I mean, he will sow "tares among the wheat," or bring in the children of the wicked one among the children of the kingdom.

Whenever my reader sees people at God's house turning up their eyes, lifting up their hands, and groaning at every sentence, he may suspect such to be young exotics, which have sprung up and been nursed at an experience meeting. When Jesus groaned at Lazarus' grave, it was moaning in spirit; the beholders might see him weep, and all his friends with him pensive in sorrow, even till the ungodly spectators cried out, "behold how he loved him!" All that affectation, crying aloud, and ridiculous gestures, which are to be seen under the doctrines of Arminianism, are little better than a devilish frenzy. When Peter's hearers cried out "What must we do to be saved?" it was not under the sound of sinless perfection, nor of free agency; but under the awful charge of imbruing their hands in innocent blood, sweetly softened with the soul-humbling promise of a free pardon, accompanied with the promise of the Holy Ghost, as you may read in the second chapter of the Acts. In my greatest distress, or under the sweetest humblings, I never let any mortal hear my groaning nor acclamations, if I could help it; and I have always rebuked it in others; and am determined not to hatch any such cockatrice eggs, but to crush them till they break "out into a viper," Isa. lix. 5.

My reader may object, and say, Who forbids our groaning before people? I answer, God forbids it; as it is written, "And the land shall mourn, every family apart; the family of the house of David apart, and their wives apart; the family of the house of Nathan apart, and their wives apart; the family of the house of Levi apart, and their wives apart; the family of Shimei apart, and their wives apart. All the families that remain, every family apart, and their wives apart," Zech. xii. 12-14. The words that I have quoted are not to be understood or applied as some of the Quakers apply them; namely, that when a young couple is espoused they are to be kept apart for a season, to mourn, before they come together: this is nothing but mourning after one another. "Who hath required this at their hands?" Isaiah, i. 13. Not God, I am sure: for he says, "When a man hath taken a new wife, he shall not go out to war, neither shall he be charged with any business; but he shall be free at home one year, and shall cheer up his wife (mark that - free at home, and cheer up his wife) which he hath taken," Deut. xxiv. 5. By which it appears that it is not the mourning of the temporal bridegroom and bride after one another that God requires; for the day of espousals is called in scripture "the day of the gladness of a man's heart," Cant. iii. 11.

But the mourning that God means is at the sight of Christ crucified, when we have that sight under the operation of the Holy Ghost; as it is written, "And I will pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications; and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and shall mourn for him as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him as one that is in bitterness for his first-born," Zech. xii. 10. And then follows, "mourning apart, and their wives apart." Such people pervert the word of God and declare publicly that they cannot distinguish between a carnal marriage and a spiritual birth But to return -