not known; I will make darknefs light before them, and crooked things ftraight: thefe things will I do unto them, and not forfake them." I was now convinced of the neceffity of receiving, with thankfulness, the smallest tokens of the divine favour; and that I must suffer, with child-like fimplicity, the Lord to lead me in his own way. This was foon followed by a clear manifeftation of pardoning mercy, that excluded all doubts, temptations, and fears, accompanied with a joy unfpeakable and full of glory.

I continued praising a reconciled God for fome days. The happiness I felt carried me above every difficulty. I could difcern and reject the firfl approach of temptation. I now thought, my mountain was fo ftrong, I fhould never be moved. I did not know that I fhould meet with war any more. Indeed I expected to go right forward to heaven, in a fhort time. My mind had been fo intenfely engaged in seeking pardon, that I had quite forgot there was a further work of grace to be wrought in me. But the Lord did not fuffer me to remain long under that mistake; he foon discovered the remains of the carnal mind, and the neceffity of its removal: I had scarce begun earnestly to feek after that bleffing, before the Tempter returned with double rage. I faw an invaluable privilege before me, but the way was difficult; a thousand arguments were prefented to difcourage my purfuit.

Once I loft the peace of God, by attending to a difcourfe which fet Juftification exceeding high,. confounding it with full Sanctification. Viewing myfelf in this falfe glafs, and not finding I had all the marks which the Preacher faid belonged to one born of God, I fell into the fnare of Satan; gave up my fhield, and fuffered myfelf to be perfuaded that all I had experienced of the goodness of God, was a mere delufion. For fome hours I was in as deep diftress as I had ever known. And I faw no way to efcape but by returning to the Lord in Faith; who then difcovered and broke the fnare.

I had fuffered much by evil reasonings on many occafions; but now I was determined to ufe double vigilance against them. Yet the Enemy fuggefted to me, "Thou mayeft now take thy time; thou art a Child of God; and if once in Chrift, always in Chrift: as for full Sanctification, it will be accomplifhed fome time or other; perhaps in the article of Death. God has begun the work, and he will finifh it; therefore take thy eafe, and enjoy thy present comfort." But I faw, whether there were true or falfe arguments, yet the conclusion was deadly. Therefore I rejected the fuggeftions with all my might, and determined to be wholly devoted to God.

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[To be concluded in our next.]

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A fhort Account of a CHILD.

June 28, 1746.

Enquired more particularly of Mrs. Nowers, concerning her little fon. She faid, "He appeared to have a conti nual fear of God, and an awful fenfe of his presence: that he frequently went to prayers by himself, and prayed for his father, and many others by name: that he had an exceeding great tenderness of confcience, being sensible of the least sin, and crying and refusing to be comforted, when he thought he had in any thing difpleafed God: that a few days fince, he broke out into prayer aloud; and then faid, "Mamma, I fhall go to heaven foon, and be with the little angels. And you will go there too, and my pappa; but you will not go fo foon:" that the day before, he went to a little girl in the house, and faid, "Polly, you and I must go to prayers. Do not mind. your doll. Kneel down now. I must go to prayers; God bids me." When the Holy Ghoft teaches, is there any delay in learning? This child was then three years old! A year or two after he died in peace.

J. W.

A short

A fhort Account of the RECTOR of Wenfley.

N Wednesday, July 16, 1746, I called upon good, old

ON

Mr. Clayton. He was exceeding weak, and feemed like one that had not got long to continue here. I called again on Monday 21, and found him very ill. He told me, No one elfe fhould have been admitted: that he had much to fay to me to tell Mr. Wesley, and defired me to fend his kind refpects to him, and wished him profperity in his pious undertakings. Finding he was not able to talk much, I took my leave, not thinking it would be the laft time. But when I returned into these parts on Saturday last, I found he died that morning between two and three. On Monday laft I went to his burial, and I was unexpectedly made mourner for my good, old friend. I followed his corpse to the ground, where I faw it folemnly interred. Many of the parishioners dropt tears, he having been a father to the poor. He died very poor, though he had an estate of forty pounds a year, and a living of near three hundred, of which he had been Rector three and forty years.

HENRY THORNTON.

Some Account of FRANCIS Coxon.

March 30, 1747.

FRANCIS COXON, was at firft the grand fupport

of the Society at Biddick. But after a time he grew weary of well-doing, complaining, "That it took up too much of his time." He then began to fearch after cu

rious knowledge, and to converfe with thofe who were likeminded. The world obferved it, and courted his company again, "Now he was not fo precife." His fchool was filled with children. Many flowed in, and he faid, "Soul take thy eafe for many years." He came to Newcastle with John Reach the Saturday after I came; but had no leifure to call upon me. At night they fet out homeward. He was walking a little before his companion, about three miles from Newcastle, in a way he knew as well as his own house floor, when John heard him fall, and afked, what is the matter? He anfwered, "God has overtaken me, I am fallen into the Quarry, and have broke my Leg." John ran to fome houfes that were near and having procured help, carried him thither. Thence he was removed to another house, and a Surgeon fent for, who came immediately. He foon recovered his fpirits, and afked how long it would be, before he could be in his fchool again? And on Sunday, Monday, and Tuefday was full of the world, nor was God in all his thoughts. On Wednesday, the Surgeon told him honeftly, He thought he could not live. Then he awoke out of fleep. The fnares of death came about him, the pains of hell overtook him. He continued all Thursday and Friday in the lowest pit, in a place of darkness and in the deep; warning all to beware of drawing back unto perdition, and calling upon God with frong cries and tears. On Sunday he found a little dawning of hope. This gradually increafed all the day. On Monday, he knew God had healed his backfliding, and forrow and fighing fled away. He continued all day in fervant prayer, mingled with praise and ftrong thanksgiving. "This night, faid he, will be a glorious night to me. My warfare is accomplished. My fin is pardoned." Then he broke out again into vehement prayer. About eight he left off fpeaking, and foon after, without any ftruggle or groan, gave up his foul to God.

J. W.

An

An Extract from A SURVEY of the WISDOM of GOD in the CREATION.

Of ELEPHANT S.

THE largeft land-animal in the world is an Elephant, which

seems rather to belong to the hog-kind than any other. They are found only in the south of Afric, and in the EastIndies, and are generally of a dark colour. Their eyes are like thofe of a Hog. At the corners of their mouth grow two large teeth, fix or feven feet long in the male, but not above one in the female. They feed on grafs, nuts, and other vegetables.

Of all quadrupeds, the Elephant is the ftrongeft, as well as the largest; and yet in a ftate of nature, it is neither fierce. nor formidable. Mild, peaceful, and brave, it never abuses its ftrength, and only uses it for its own protection. In its native defarts, the Elephant is a focial, friendly creature. The oldeft of the company conducts the band; that which is next in feniority brings up the rear. The young, the weak, and the fickly, fall into the centre; while the females carry their young. They maintain this order only in dangerous marches, or when they desire to feed in cultivated ground: they move with lefs precaution in the forefts, and folitudes; but without ever removing far asunder.

Nothing can be more formidable than a drove of Elephants, as they appear at a distance, in an African landscape: wherever they march, the foreft feems to. fall before them; in their paffage they bear down the branches, on which they feed; and if they enter into an inclosure, they deftroy all the labours of the husbandman, in a very fhort time. Their invafions are. the more difagrecable, becaufe there is no means of repelling VOL. V. them;

L