The long-suffering and tender mercy of the Lord in his forbearance with such a proud, rebellious sinner was wonderful. It had got noised abroad, that the mason was turned preacher; and a brother chip, who preached at Aveton Gifford, came up to Bigbury to hear what I had to say relative to the truth of God. After service was over, he gave me an invitation to go to his place to preach that day fortnight, which I readily accepted. As the invitation was so long beforehand, I felt a determination to shine off before the people, and to eclipse the glory of their parson; and Jehu-like, that they might see my zeal for the Lord (2 Kings x. 16), self, pride, and the devil went to work to study the subject for the day, and to lay it out by rule and compass in heads and tails, in which I made some progress. When the day arrrived, namely, January 25, 1818, the mason set off in the morning with his budget, his heap of untempered mortar, thinking about the wonderful display he should make of himself before the people upon the text for the morning, which was, "I will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man than the golden wedge of Ophir," (Isa. xiii. 12).

I arrived at my friend's house, took some refreshment, and went to the chapel. I was as full of self and pride as an egg is full of meat: the service began, I read and engaged in prayer, as it is called, and felt no want of the help or teaching of the Lord. While they were singing the second hymn, my text and sermon were completely swept out of my mind; I could not recollect one of my pretty ideas; all my fortnight's work was dashed to atoms; I was like Samson, shorn of all my strength (Judges xvi. 19); my mind was all confusion; my judgment was bewildered, my thoughts were scattered, I was driven to wit's end; Satan began to accuse me, my and my conscience signed the verdict; alas, what was to be done! A lie was suggested to me, that I had better say

I

was taken ill; but that would not do. I wished there had been a trap door in the bottom of the pulpit, that I might get away out of the sight of the people; I looked behind me to see if the window was open, that

I might get out and run away; but that was shut; I trembled like a rush; I did not need a warm bath, for I sweat profusely. In this state I sat in the pulpit, "my belly trembled" and "my lips quivered," I tried to cry unto the Lord to help me this once, but I could only groan. Blessed be his dear name, he heard my groanings; the people being sat down, he gave me these words, "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord; the people he hath chosen for his own inheritance (Psa. xxxiii. 12). By this humbling lesson, I learnt that I was to speak what the Lord gave me, and not my own production; and this proved to me that the flesh profiteth nothing, it is the Spirit that quickeneth, and the Spirit giveth life (John vi. 63). It cured me of troubling myself about studying a sermon, which is the weariness of the flesh (Eccl. xii. 12), and is not profitable to the people.

I have many times since, as well as then, blessed and praised my ever gracious Lord for this mercy manifested towards me, and also for the displays of his long-suffering to such a proud, vile, rebellious sinner. Let the God of my salvation be exalted (Psa. xviii. 37.) I was thus made to look after the honour of my dear Lord, and not after my own; for the Lord made this one of the all things that work together for good (Rom. viii. 28). Satan buffeted me greatly on account of my presumption in going to the above place in the way I did, and I walked for some time in the old path of darkness, with my heart sorely grieved, and full of sorrow: so, as David said, I felt how I do mourn in my prayers and am vexed, or, I mourn in my complaint (Psa. lv. 2.) "My soul is also sore vexed: but thou, O Lord, how long? Return, O Lord, deliver my soul: Save me for thy mercies' sake" (Psa. vi. 3, 4.)

All my fears of running unsent of the Lord came upon me again, with bitter reflections on my baseness. I cried unto the Lord in my distress, and intreated him to forgive me this time, and I never would act so any more; for I fully believed that I was never sent to preach the gospel. I was again full of tossings to and fro, yet the Lord was continually bringing into my mind the words before alluded to, "Comfort ye my people," and "Get thee up into the high mountains;" and I generally found when I stood up to speak, that I had light on the word, and liberty in speaking, but always darkness and bondage after; so that I spent weeks in grief.

Reader, the Lord will do his own work, for no flesh shall glory in his presence (1 Cor. i. 29), and so it came to pass; for I preached at Bigbury on Tuesday evening, March 24, 1818, from 1 John v. 1; the Lord was with me in speaking, and the people in hearing; it was a time of refreshing to our souls. After service was over, the friends whose hearts the Lord had touched, said, it was plain to them that the Lord had set me apart for the work of the ministry. I hearkened to what they said, but I did not believe they told the truth; I wanted a greater testimony than theirs. As I was going home I sunk into my old state of distress, and determined never to speak any more to the people, for I felt confident, that it was only presumption in me so to do. As I was walking on, pouring out my complaint before the Lord, telling him in the simplicity of my heart, that I never would preach any more, the former words, "Comfort" &c., came with more power than ever into my mind, they sounded with a continual repetition, "Get thee up into the high mountain; lift up thy voice with strength" &c. I said "Not so Lord, not so Lord, I cannot, I will not:" but the Lord would have the last word; "Get thee up," &c. I was so fast bound by the word of the Lord, that I could not resist. I stood in the road to consider the matter,

the word of the Lord still sounding in my mind; so that the following petition flowed forth from my heart: I said, "My dear Lord, sooner send me to hell than let me run unsent of thee; and if it be thy will to send me to preach thy holy word, bear thy testimony, dear Lord, to thy own word spoken by me, in some poor sinner's soul, and make him speak of it to thy poor dust; then, dear Lord, I shall believe that thou hast sent me: but never let me run unless commissioned by thee, my gracious God"; the former words were brought again with power into my mind, I felt a persuasion it was from the Lord; and I thought it might be, that the Lord had ordained me to run on his errands, to tell sinners of his love and great salvation. I felt such love to the Lord on account of these things, that I was perfect willingness to do any thing he would have me to do; the keen edge of my trouble was taken off, and I went on my way home happy in mind. This passed at Oakenbury-lane-end, between the two places in the same road before mentioned, namely, where I was stopped from going back; and secondly, where I had the revelation to my soul of Jesus Christ and him crucified. These places are hallowed spots unto me, even to this day. They are memorials to me of what a gracious God the Lord God of Israel is, especially unto me. I can freely say with David, "O that men would praise the Lord for his goodness and his wonderful works to the children of men! for he satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with goodness: such as sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, being bound in affliction and iron" (Psa. cvii. 8-10).

However unlikely the person may appear, and altogether ignorant and unfit in himself for the work of the ministry, yet the Lord can and doth send forth such to be his mouth to the people, preaching peace by Jesus Christ, for he is Lord of all (Acts x. 36). As I never learnt any thing of English grammar, I was altogether ignorant of its rules; my provincial

Devonshire dialect sounded so harsh in the ears of the critical hearer, that I was soon declared to be very unfit to preach the gospel. Some persons kindly entreated me to study English grammar before I presumed to stand up again to preach; others advised me to hear men of learning, and to notice particularly their pronunciation, as, they said, mine was so bad; but the mason, from some cause or other, did not attend to these advisers, but went on in his way telling poor sinners what God had done for his soul.

Although I am very far from being proud of my ignorance, yet I do bless my dear Lord that he never permitted me to submit myself to the wisdom of men, for I have seen the Lord confound the wisdom of the wise and bring the counsel of the heathen to nought (1 Cor. i. 27; Psa. xxxiii. 10), and by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe: "For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen 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 nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence" (1 Cor. i. 21, 26-29). The Lord can fulfil his purpose by rams' horns (Josh, vi), and by breaking pitchers, and by lamps (Judges vii). There is nothing too hard for the Lord (Gen. xviii. 14). "He spake and it was done: he commanded and it stood fast" (Psa. xxxiii. 9.)

But, to return to the subject of the Lord's gracious dealing with me: my mind was not agitated about preaching after I was led to look to the Lord, who I knew had heard my prayer, and I believed would make it openly manifest that he had called me to the work: and surely the Lord's ways are wonderful, for it came to pass, on Sunday, December 6, 1818, that I went to Bigbury as usual, and returned to my own