ed in this miserable state, without one comfortable hope, "angry at God, angry at himself, angry at the Devil," and fancying himself possessed with more devils than Mary Magdalene. Only while he was preaching to others (for he still continued to preach) his distress was a little abated. "Some may inquire," says he, "what could move me to preach while I was in such a forlorn condition? They must ask of God, for I cannot tell. After some years I attempted again to pray. With this Satan was not well pleased; for one day as I was walking alone, and faintly crying for mercy, suddenly such a hot blast of brimstone flashed in my face, as almost took away my breath; and presently after, an invisible power struck up my heels, and threw me violently upon my face One Sunday, I went to church in Holland, when the Lord's Supper was to be administered. I had a great desire to partake of it; but the enemy came in like a flood to hinder me, pouring in temptations of every kind. I resisted him with my might, till, through the agony of my mind, the blood gushed out at my mouth and nose. However, I was enabled to conquer, and to partake of the blessed elements. I was much distressed with dreams and visions of the night. I dreamt one night that I was in hell; another, that I was on mount Etna; that, on a sudden, it shook and trembled exceedingly; and that, at last, it split asunder in several places, and sunk into the burning lake, all but that little spot on which I stood. Oh, how thankful was I for my preservation !~[ thought that I was worse than Cain. In rough weather it was often suggested to me, this is on your account. See, the earth is cursed for your sake; and it will be no better till you are in hell! Often did I wish that I had never been converted: often, that I had never been born. Yet, I preached every day, and endeavoured to appear open and free to my brethren. I encouraged them that were tempted. I thundered out the terrors of the law against the ungodly. I was often violently tempted to curse and swear before and after, and even while I was preaching. Sometimes, when I was in the midst of the congregation, I could hardly refrain from laughing aloud; yea, from uttering all kind of ribaldry and filthy conversation. Frequently, as I was going to preach, the Devil has set upon me as a lion, telling me he would have me just then, so that it has thrown me into a cold sweat. In this agony I have caught hold of the Bible and read, ' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous !' I have said to the enemy, This is the word of God, and thou canst not deny it!' Thereat he would be like a man that shrunk back from the thrust of a sword. But he would be at me again. I again met him in the same way; till at last, blessed be God! he fled from me. And even in the midst of his sharpest assaults, God gave me just strength enough to bear them. When he has strongly suggested, just as I was going to preach. I will have thee at last,' I have answered, (sometimes with too much anger,) ' I will have another out of thy hand first!' And many, while I was myself in the deep, were truly convinced and converted to God."

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Having returned to England, and obtained his discharge from the army, he was admitted by Mr. Wesley as a travelling preacher. This, however, did not deliver him from his miserable disease of mind: he could neither be satisfied with preaching, nor without it; wherever

he went he was not able to remain, but was continually wandering to and fro, seeking rest, but finding none. "I thought," he says, "if David or Peter had been living, they would have pitied me." Wesley, after a while, took him as a companion in one of his rounds, and knowing how to bear with it, and to manage it. "It was good for him," he said, "to be in the fiery furnace; he should be purified therein, but not consumed." Year after year he continued in this extraordinary state, till, in the year 1766, he was persuaded by Mr. Wesley to go and dwell with a person at St. Ives, in Cornwall, who wanted a worn-out preacher to live with him, take care of his family, and pray with him morning and evening. Here he was, if possible, ten times worse than before; and it seemed to him, that unless he got some relief, he must die in despair. "One day," he says, "I retired into the hall, fell on my face, and cried for mercy; but got no answer. I got up, and walked up and down the room, wringing my hands, and crying like to break my heart; begging of God for Christ's sake, if there was any mercy for me to help me : and, blessed be his name, all on a sudden, I found such a change through my soul and body, as is past description. I was afraid I should alarm the whole house with the expressions of my joy. I had a full witness from the Spirit of God, that I should not find that bondage any more. Glory be to God for all his mercy.". Twenty years the disease had continued upon him ; and it now left him, by his own account, as instantaneously as it came and his account is credible; for he acknowledges that he had not the same faith as in his former state: the age of rapture was over, and the fierceness of his disposition was spent, though its restlessness was unabated. Though his chaplainship with Mr. Hoskins had every thing which could render such a situation comfortable, he could not be at ease till he was again in motion, and had resumed his itinerant labours. He lived till the great age of seventy-eight, and died of a fever, which was more than twelve months consuming him, and which wore him to the bone before he went to rest. But though his latter days were pain, they were not sorrow." He preached as long as he was able to speak, and longer than he could stand without support. "Some of his last words were, " O Lord, in thee have I trusted, and have not been confounded;" and he expired in full confidence that a convoy of angels were ready to conduct his soul to the paradise of God.

Whatever may be thought of John Haime's qualifications for preaching the gospel, there was one man at least who had reason to bless him as his greatest earthly benefactor: this was SAMPSON STANIFORTH, who served at the same time as a private in the army. He was the son of a cutler at Sheffield, and grew up without any moral or religious instruction, so that he had "no fear of God before his eyes, no thought of his providence, of his saving mercy, nor, indeed, of his having any thing to do with the world." Why he was born into the world, what was his business in it, or where he was to go when this life was over, were considerations, he says, which never entered into his mind; and he grew up in the course of brutal vices, being as utterly without God in the world as the beasts that perish. He describes himself as not only fierce and passionate, but also sullen and malicious, without any feeling of humanity; and disposed,

instead of weeping with those who wept, to rejoice in their sufferings. This hopeful subject enlisted as a soldier at the age of nineteen, in spite of the tears and entreaties of his mother; and, after some hair-breadth escapes from situations into which he was led by his own rashness and profligacy, he joined the army in Germany a few days after the battle of Dettingen.-While they were encamped at Worms, orders were read at the head of every regiment, that no soldier should go above a mile from the camp, on pain of death, which was to be executed immediately, without the forms of a court-martial. This did not deter Staniforth from straggling; and he was drinking with some of his comrades in a small town to the left of the camp, when a captain, with a guard of horse, came to take them up, being appointed to seize all he could find out of the lines, and hang up the first man without delay. The guard entered the town and shut the gates. He saw them in time, ran to a wicket in the great gate, which was only upon the latch, and before the gate itself could be opened to let the horsemen follow him, got into the vineyards, and there concealed himself by lying down. He had a still narrower escape not long afterwards-Many complaints had been made of the marauders in the English army; and it was proclaimed, that the guard would be out every night, to hang up the first offenders who were taken. This fellow listened to the proclamation, and set out, as soon as the officer who read it had turned away, upon a plundering party, with two of his companions. They stole four bullocks, and were met by an officer driving them to the camp. Staniforth said they had bought them, and the excuse passed. On the next day the owners came to the camp to make their complaint; and three of the beasts, which had been sold, but not slaughtered, were identified. Orders were of course given to arrest the thieves. That very morning Staniforth had been sent to some distance on an out-party, and thus Providence again preserved him from a shameful death.

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There was in the same company with him a native of Barnard-Castle, by name Mark Bond, a man of a melancholy but religious disposition, who had enlisted in the hope of being killed. "His ways," says Staniforth, were not like those of other men: out of his litpay he saved money to send to his friends. We could never get him to drink with us; but he was always full of sorrow: he read much, and was much in private prayer.' The state of his mind arose from having uttered blasphemy when he was a little boy, and the thought of this kept him in a constant state of wretchedness and despair. A Romanist might here observe, that a distressing case like this, could not have occurred in one of his persuasion; and one who knows that the practice of confession brings with it evils tenfold greater than those which it palliates, may be allowed to regret that, in our church, there should be so little intercourse between the pastor and the people. This poor man might have continued his whole life in misery, if John Haime had not taken to preaching in the army: he went to hear him, and found what he wanted; his peace of mind was restored; and wishing that others should partake in the happiness which he experienced, he could think of no one who stood more in need of the same spiritual medicine than his comrade Staniforth. He, as might be expected, first wondered at his conversation,

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and afterwards mocked at it. Bond, however, was not thus to be discouraged he met him one day when he was in distress, having neither food, money, nor credit, and asked him to go and hear the preaching. Staniforth made answer, You had better give me something to eat and drink, for I am both hungry and dry.' Bond did as he was requested; took him to a sutler's, and treated him, and persuaded him afterwards, reluctant as he was, to accompany him to the preaching. Incoherent and rhapsodical as such preaching would be, it was better suited to such auditors than any thing more temperate would have been it was level to their capacities; and the passionate sincerity with which it was delivered, found the readiest way to their feelings. Staniforth, who went with great unwillingness, and who was apparently in no ways prepared for such an effect, was, by that one sermon, suddenly and effectually reclaimed from a state of habitual brutality and vice. He returned to his tent full of sorrow, thoroughly convinced of his miserable state. and seeing all his sins stand in battle-array against him." The next day he went early to the place of meeting: some soldiers were reading there, some singing hymns, and others were at prayer. One came up to him, and after inquiring how long he had attended the preachers, said to him, "Let us go to prayer ;" and Staniforth was obliged to confess that he could not pray, for he had never prayed in his life, neither had he ever read in any devotional book. Bond had a piece of an old Bible, and gave it to him, saying, "I can do better without it than you. ." This was a true friend. He found that Staniforth was in debt; and telling him that it became Christians to be first just, and then charitable, said, "We will put both our pays together, and live as hard as we can, and what we spare will pay the debt." Such practice must have come strongly in aid of the preaching.

From that time Staniforth shook off all his evil courses: though till then an habitual swearer, he never afterwards swore an oath : though addicted to drinking, he never was intoxicated again : though a gambler from his youth up, he left off gaming; and having so often risked his neck for the sake of plunder, he would not now gather an apple or a bunch of grapes. Methodism had wrought in him a great and salutary work; but it taught him to expect another change not less palpable to himself: he was in bitter distress under the weight of his sins, and he was taught to look for a full and entire sense of deliverance from the burden. His own efforts were not wanting to bring on this spiritual crisis, and, after some months, he was successful. The account which he gives must be explained by supposing that strong passion made the impression of what was either a sleeping or a waking dream, strong as reality ;-a far more probable solution than would be afforded by ascribing it to any wilful exaggeration or deliberate falsehood. "From twelve at night, till two," he says, "it was my turn to stand sentinel at a dangerous post. I had a fellow-sentinel, but I desired him to go away, which he willingly did. As soon as I was alone, I knelt down, and determined not to rise, but to continue crying and wrestling with God, till he had mercy on How long I was in that agony I cannot tell; but, as I looked up to Heaven, I saw the clouds open exceeding bright, and I saw Jesus VOL. II. 9

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hanging on the cross. At the same moment these words were ap plied to my heart, Thy sins are forgiven thee.' All guilt was gone, and my soul was filled with unutterable peace: the fear of death and hell was vanished away. I was filled with wonder and astonishment. I closed my eyes, but the impression was still the same; and, for about ten weeks, while I was awake, let me be where I would, the same appearance was still before my eyes, and the same impression upon my heart, Thy sins are forgiven thee." " It may be believed that Staniforth felt what he describes, and imagined what he appeared to see; but to publish such an account as Wesley did, without one qualifying remark, is obviously to encourage wild and dangerous enthusiasm.

Staniforth's mother had bought him off once when he enlisted, and sent him from time to time money, and such things as he wanted and she could provide for him. He now wrote her a long letter, asking pardon of her and his father for all his disobedience; telling them that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven him his sins, and desiring her not to send him any more supplies, which he knew must straiten her, and which he no longer wanted, for he had learned to be contented with his pay. This letter they could not very well understand; it was handed about till it got into the hands of a dissenting minister, and of one of the leading Methodists at Sheffield: the latter sent Staniforth a "comfortable letter" and a hymn-book; the former a letter also, and a Bible, which was more precious to him than gold as was a prayer-book also, which his mother sent him. He, as well as Haime, came safe out of the battle of Fontenoy, where Bond was twice preserved in an extraordinary manner, one musket ball having struck some money in one of his pockets, and another having been repelled by a knife. Soon afterwards he was drafted into the artillery, and ordered back to England on account of the rebellion in 1745. He was now quartered at Deptford, and from thence was able, twice a week, to attend upon Wesley's preaching at the Foundry, or at West-street Chapel. At Deptford also there was a meeting, and there he found a woman who, being of the same society, was willing to take him for a husband if he were out of the army. On his part, the match appears to have been a good one as to worldly matters: she was persuaded to marry him before his discharge was obtained and, on his wedding-day, he was ordered to embark immediately for Holland.

The army which he joined in Holland, was under the command of Prince Charles of Lorrain; and as they soon came within sight of the enemy, Staniforth had too much spirit to apply for his discharge, "lest he should seem afraid to fight, and so bring a disgrace upon the Gospel." Near Maestricht, two English regiments, of which his was one, with some Hanoverians and Dutch, in all about 12,000 men, being advanced in front of the army, had a sharp action. The Prince, according to this account, forgot to send them orders to retreat, being busy with his cups and his ladies ;" and it appears, indeed, as he says, that many brave lives were vilely thrown away that day by his gross misconduct. Among them was poor Bond: a ball went through his leg, and he fell at Staniforth's feet. "I and ano