full of care, that sleep departed from him, and he was restless day and night: till after a few months, life itself was a burden, and an untimely death closed the scene!

In the evening I preached at Mountmellick, near the Market-house. The congregation was exceedingly large: and God made his word quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword.

Friday 26, Finding some of the most earnest persons in the Society were deeply prejudiced against each other, I desired them to come face to face, and laboured much to remove that prejudice. I used both argument and persuasion; but it was all in vain. Perceiving that reasoning profited nothing, we betook ourselves to prayer. On a sudden the mighty power of God broke in upon them. The angry ones on both sides burst into tears, and fell on each other's necks. All anger and prejudice vanished away, and they

were as cordially united as ever.

But

Saturday 27, The congregation in the Market-house at Portarlington was widely different from that at Mountmellick. I endeavoured to suit my subject to my audience, preaching from Gallio cared for none of these things. some of them were quite above conviction. So, finding that they had neither sense nor good manners, (of religion I did not suspect them) the next day I adjourned to the shell of our new house, in which I preached, morning and evening. And here the greatest part of the congregation, both Papists and Protestants, behaved with decency.

Monday 29, We took horse about a quarter past three, and before eight reached Coolylough. At twelve I preached in the shady walk: afterwards we had the quarterly meeting. I found no reason to complain of any of the Societies; only they want more life and zeal. Tuesday 30, I observed more good manners at Tyrrel's-pass in rich as well as poor, than at Portarlington.

Wednesday, July 1, A friend carried me to Belvidere, a seat built on the side of a clear lake, with walks and gardens adjoining, so curiously laid out, as to exceed even the late Earl of Charleville's. One would scarcely think it possible,

to have such a variety of beauties in so small a compass. But,

"How soon, alas! will these upbraid

Their transitory master dead!"

We went on to Molingar, where for many years no Methodist Preacher could appear. The Sessions-house here was used as a guard-house. I sent to the Commanding-Officer, and desired leave to preach there. This he not only gave, but came himself. So did many of the soldiers, as well as the townsmen. In the evening, notwithstanding the cold and blustering winds, I was obliged to preach abroad at Tyrrel'spass. But the rain, on the two following evenings, drove us into the house at Eden-derry. Saturday 4, having now finished my Circuit, I went on cheerfully to Dublin.

Sunday 5, Our House was thoroughly filled, a sight which I have seldom seen. Friday 10, we observed as a day of fasting and prayer. It was at our last meeting that we found the answer of our prayers. It seemed as if the windows of heaven were opened; the spirit of grace and supplication was poured out. Many were filled with consolation; and many who had grown weary, resolved to set out anew.

Tuesday 14, A poor backslider, whom I found ten days ago dying in black despair, told me, "Now I am not afraid to die. I see Jesus before me; and his face is all glory.' Instances of this kind do by no means prove that a saint cannot fall, even for ever: but only that God is pitiful and of tender mercy, not willing any should perish.

Thursday 16, About ten I reached Donard, seven or eight and twenty English miles from Dublin. Standing under some shady trees, I enforced upon a serious congregation, All things are ready; come unto the marriage. From hence I rode on to Baltinglass, and preached, on By grace ye are saved, through faith. It was sultry hot as we rode to Carlow: so that I was weary and faint when we came in: but I soon recovered, and at seven preached in the Sessions-house, to a numerous congregation. But the greater part of them were like wild asses' colts. I was constrained to reprove them sharply. They received it well, and behaved with more

[JULY 1767. decency. Friday 17, we lost our way in setting out of the town. It rained most of the day. However, this was far better than sultry heat. In the evening we returned to Dublin.

In my scraps of time this week, I read over that wonderful poem, Fingal. If it be genuine, if it be really extant, (as many assure me it is) in the Erse language, it is an amazing proof of a genius in those barbarous times, little inferior to Homer or Virgil!

Monday 20, A friend shewed me the apartments in the Castle, the residence of the Lord Lieutenant. The Duke of Bedford made a noble addition to the lodgings, which are now both grand and convenient. But the furniture sur

prised me not a little. It is by no means equal to the building. In England, many gentlemen of five hundred a year, would be utterly ashamed of it.

Tuesday 21, I received an account of a young woman, the substance of which was as follows:

"Katherine Murray was born February 2, 1729, at Carrick-on-Sure. She feared God from a child, and abstained from lying and speaking bad words. When about thirteen, she stole some twigs of goose-berry bushes from a neighbour, and planted them in her father's garden. Imme diately she felt she had sinned, knew she deserved hell, and feared it would be her portion. She began praying three times a day; but notwithstanding, her sin followed her every where. Day and night it was before her, till after some time, that conviction gradually wore off.

"In the year 1749, her sister heard the Methodists, so called. She was soon convinced of sin, joined the Society, and advised her to do so. But hearing one named that was in it, she was filled with disdain, What! meet with such a man as that!' Yet, not long after, she was convinced, that the sins of her own heart, pride and passion in parti cular, were as abominable in the sight of God, as the sins of that man, or any other. This conviction was exceedingly sharp. She could no longer despise any, but only cry out, day and night, God, be merciful to me, a sinner.'

"In February she went to hear Mr, Reeves. He preached on part of Psalm ciii, She was now more deeply than ever convinced of heart-sin, of unbelief in particular, and had such a sight of the excellency of faith, that she deter. mined to seek it with all her heart,

"In the May following, she was sitting in her room, lamenting her state, and crying to God for mercy, when suddenly she had a sight of our Lord, from the manger to the cross. But it did not bring comfort: on the contrary, it so heightened her distress, that she cried aloud, and alarmed the family: nor could she refrain, till her strength failed, and she fainted away. Often her sleep departed from her; her food was tasteless, and she mingled her drink with weeping; being resolved never to rest, till she found rest in him, whom alone her soul desired.

"It was not long, before the Lord looked upon her. As she was in prayer, she had a clear representation of our blessed Lord, as crowned with thorns, and clothed with the purple robe. In a moment her soul rested on him, and she knew he had taken away her sins. Distress was gone: the love of God flowed into her heart, and she could rejoice in God her Saviour. Her soul was so ravished with his love, that she could not hold her peace: but cried out to all she knew, You may know your sins forgiven, if you will come unto Jesus.'

"Yet a while after, she dressed herself as fine as ever she could, and went to worship God, as she expressed it, 'proud as the devil.' Upon the spot, God convinced her of her folly, of her pride, and vanity. She was stripped of all her comfort, yea, and brought to doubt the reality of all she had before experienced. The devil then laboured to persuade her, that she had sinned the sin against the Holy Ghost; and pushed it so, that she thought her life would fail, and she should instantly drop into the pit. But the Lord did not leave her long in the snare: he appeared again, to the joy of her soul. Her confidence was more strong than ever, and the fear of God more deeply rooted in her heart. She abhorred all sin, that in particular which

had occasioned her distress: of which indeed she had a peculiar detestation to her last hours...

"God now made her heart strong: she walked seven years in the clear light of his countenance, never feeling a moment's doubt of his favour, but having the uninterrupted witness of his Spirit. It was her meat and drink to do his will. His word, read or preached, was her delight; and all his ways were pleasant to her. She said, she never came from a sermon unimproved; often so refreshed as to forget weariness or pain. And she was truly diligent in business, as well as fervent in spirit.

"And now she thought, she should never be removed; God had made her hill so strong. But soon after this, she was present when her sister was ill used by her husband. She gave way to the temptation, fell into a passion, and again lost all her happiness. Yet not long: she continued instant in prayer, till God again healed her backsliding.

1

"But from this time, as her temptations were more violent, so she had a keener sense of the remains of sin. Though she enjoyed a constant sense of the favour of God, yet she had also much fear, lest inbred sin should prevail over her, and make her bring a scandal upon the Gospel. She spent whole days in prayer, that God would not suffer her to be tempted above that she was able, and that with every temptation he would make a way for her to escape. And she was heard: so that her whole conversation adorned the doctrine of God her Saviour.

"Yet she suffered much reproach, not only from the children of the world, but also from the children of God. These wounds sunk deeply into her soul, and often made her weep before the Lord. Sometimes she felt resentment for a short time, of which darkness was the sure consequence: but if at any time she lost the consciousness of pardon, it almost took away her life; nor could she rest satisfied a moment, till she regained the light of his countenance. She always judged, it was the privilege of every believer, constantly to walk in the light: and that nothing but sin could