enly peace and joy. The very thought of that scene has a thousand times ravished my heart with joy as I travel on in this vale of tears, singing as

I go,

"No foot of land do I possess,
No cottage in this wilderness."

CHAPTER XXI.

It is now the spring of 1846, and in the fourth year of my pilgrimage to Mount Zion and the first year in the land of Beulah. One of the certain fruits of a young convert is a missionary spirit. The prophet Isaiah, after the coal of hallowed fire was laid upon his lips and his iniquity taken away and his sin purged, heard a voice from the throne, saying, "Whom shall we send?" He replied, "Lord, here am I, send me."

With the young convert there is not only a willingness, but a burning desire to tell what God has done for him. John Bunyan says that, returning home from church after his conversion, he saw a flock of crows; and so great was his love for everything that God had made, that he would willingly have stopped and told them the story of Jesus's pardoning love if they could have understood him.

This missionary spirit flames still higher when the eye is touched the second time, and we behold every

man in his true light; at least this was my happy experience. It is not only our duty, but exalted privilege to publish these glad tidings. David wanted to gather around him every one that feared God on the whole earth, to tell them what God had done for his soul; that as far as the east is from the west, so far God had removed his sins from him.

St. Peter seems to think it constitutes a great part of a Christian's duty to show forth the praise of Him who hath called us from darkness into his most marvellous light. Yes, bless the Lord! Peter may well call it a marvellous light. Like the burning bush, it is wonderful to behold, doubly so to dwell therein. Saint Paul says, Let us therefore offer unto God the sacrifice of praise; and, lest we should mistake his meaning, he adds, that giving praise to his name is the fruit of our lips. Dr. Payson said that he often felt like borrowing Gabriel's trumpet, that he might spread the news of salvation from pole to pole. This same seraphic fire blazed in the soul of your humble author.

I felt that if I had the tongue of angels, if every hair of my head were a tongue, all should be employed in spreading the glad tidings of Scriptural holiness over the land. It is an ancient proverb, that "where there is a will there is a way." As you see, reader, I have been almost everything in my life but an author, and surely I might have expected to be anything else but that. Little did I think that the giving a history of my life to the

world would benefit any one. But none but God can bring something out of nothing.

If I ever understood the leadings of the Spirit, it was in the matter of giving to the press and to the world an account of the dealings of God with my soul. But how was this to be done? It would cost several hundred dollars. My capital stock at this time consisted of a feeble wife and two little children, a bundle of common furniture in a hired house, and I a blind husband and father.

But I am thankful in my soul that Jesus Christ is the same now that he was in the days of Saint Paul, when he chose the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world and things which are despised hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that are. Reader, was not the power and grace of God magnified by the lifeless, rough, and crooked instrument which he made use of in throwing down the walls of Jericho far more than if the work had been accomplished by means of Roman engines? What general of the present day would select the jaw-bone of an ass as a weapon of war? The reason the apostle gives for the use of such humble instruments is, that no flesh should glory in his presence.

If we, then, glory in our own strength or wisdom, can we expect God to make us instruments of good? A minister, whatever his talents or attainments, is not qualified to be used successfully in spiritual war

fare until he has ceased from his own works. An ass is among the most despised of animals while living; but it was when the jaw-bone had ceased from its own works-was dead and laid aside-that it was used successfully in the hands of Samson against his enemies. Even so every minister of Christ should be evangelically dead-or as indifferent to flatteries or frowns, glories or honours, as the humble bone used to slay the Philistines. Christ was slain to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honour, and glory, and blessing; and in vain may his true followers look for power, heavenly riches, and honours, until they have nailed their lives, property, and even their darling reputation to the cross. They must be willing, too, so to be lifted up that a wicked world may wag their heads and point the finger of scorn, and the Pharisaical cold-hearted professor of religion say, Come down from the cross; that is, Come down on a level with us, and be satisfied with now and then a little milk, and live the balance of the time on garlic and onions. Then we can fellowship you. This is the price to be paid for holiness. This is selling all and buying the field. This is our diploma, our qualification for holy war. For it is written, "Stronger is He that is in you than he that is in the world." So much for the instruments with which God chooses to carry on his warfare. Therefore take courage, my soul, and what he saith unto thee write in a book. I have said I was without capital, but here I was mistaken. Can a man

be without capital who has a sanctified companion praying for him, together with the promises of a faithful God, who never mocks a feeble worm by commanding him to stretch forth a paralyzed and withered arm without giving the power to do it. So we went forth to our work comparatively penniless; and as fast as Satan planted sycamore-trees and raised up mountains of difficulties, Faith said, Be ye removed and cast into the depths of the sea. A contract was made to print a book of about one hundred and fifty pages.

I came home, put a pen into the hand of the little boy that I had hired to be the light of my eyes, and commenced in good earnest to make a book. In the language of Bunyan, "As I pulled, it came," and in about five weeks I had upwards of three hundred pages. I got fifteen hundred copies printed, and it cost over four hundred dollars.

The printer and bookbinder seemed as willing to wait as if I was worth my thousands. He that called me to this work had prepared the way before me. O, how good it is to trust the Lord. The first book I offered for sale, was at the Methodist Conference, in Lowville. I had with me, besides the books, a quantity of fine cloth, and hair-brushes of my own make. Almost every minister bought a brush of me, and took a dozen of my little books to sell. God bless them!

The next door that opened was the school district library, accompanied with high commendations