We can overlook the points of doctrine which divide the good man and ourselves. We are one with him on the great subject of regeneration, a feeling religion, the sealing of the Holy Spirit, together with His unerring council and undeviating constancy in guarding, delivering, and sanctifying all His adopted children; and we have a sweet hope of meeting him where

"Names, and sects, and parties fall,
And Jesus Christ is all in all.”

But we must give our readers a taste of the fat things in the book before us. Let us listen to

THE STORY OF WARBURTON'S CONVERSION.-A new church was opened at Bolton in Lancashire, and John was present on the occasion. The text came from the minister's mouth like a two-edged sword. "I really believed," says John," that he pointed directly at me, for his eyes appeared to look right through me, and I thought I should have dropped into hell. I crept out of the church as if I had stolen something." A week of misery passed over, and John was once more at the church, in the hope of hearing words of comfort. But instead of receiving comfort, he was cut up more and more. Weeks of wretchedness dragged their weary length along, leaving him without a ray of hope. Sometimes he longed for death, and now and then attempted self-destruction. On one of such occasions he says "I saw as clearly as the sun at noon-day that the law was holy, just, and good; that God had done me no injustice, and that the whole cause of my damnation was in myself. I said a solemn amen to my own damnation, and indeed I did not want a salvation that was dishonouring to so holy and so just a God. I rose up to take a leap into the pool, when-Who can tell?' sounded in my ears as if a man had called out to me. made a dead stand, and said, 'What can that be?' The words sounded again and again in my very soul, and something seemed to spring up in my mind and thus interpret them- Who can tell but God may yet have mercy upon my poor soul? Who can tell but that that poor wretch, John Warburton, may find mercy yet?' This put a stop to my drowning myself." At length he strayed into Mr. Roby's chapel in Cannon Street, Manchester: "At the conclusion of the first hymn, Mr. Roby went to prayer; towards the end of it he dropped a few words which I believed were for nobody but me. He begged God that if there were any present who had come to make a last trial of his mercy, he would show himself to such a one as his God. It was with hard work that I could keep from calling out-Yes, here is poor lost John Warburton; here I am come to make the last trial.' When Mr. Roby read his text, O the wonder and glory that shone into my soul.

I

The precious text was- Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive,' &c. O the love, peace, and joy that broke in upon my heart as the words came out of his mouth. I said in my soul, 'What can this mean? Where are my sins? Where is my burden, and the wrath and terror I have had so many months?" " They were clean gone, and for some time Warburton went on his way rejoicing. But he had

CONFLICTS WITH HIS BRETHREN.-The peculiarities of his conversion were such as to lead him to regard it as indicative of sovereign and invincible grace. He had also been so dreadfully handled by the law in his conscience, during the season of conviction, that when delivered from its condemning power he also regarded himself as having been freed from its controlling claims, and to be entirely governed as well as pardoned by the Lord Jesus, so that he boldly affirmed "The life I live in the flesh is by faith on the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.' "This brought upon him a sea of trouble from many who, misinterpreting his views, called him a wild Antinomian. "At their prayer meetings,” he says, “I was sure to be present, being quite impatient for the time to arrive to meet the children of God, and tell them again the great things God had done for me. But some of them could not bear to see me there, and one of them told me one night that I was deceived, and that he wished I would never come among them again." It is but fair to listen to his defence. "How can I be deceived, said I? I have pardon in my heart. Such sweet words as these flow in upon me: Thy sins are all forgiven thee'; 'Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace.' I would not commit a single sin for a thousand worlds, if I could help it, for it is my meat and drink to do the will of my God and Saviour. When I was under the law, I had no obedience, but was full of anger, rebellion, wretchedness. But now, having been delivered from the law, and having the love of Jesus shed abroad in my heart, I can believe in him, obey him, praise him, thank him, adore him night and day. I never knew what it was to hate sin, to love God, and to delight in his ways until his pardoning love was enjoyed in my heart; and this I was sure was my God and my Saviour in my heart obeying the law." He adds "For nearly twelve months it was little else with my soul but joy and peace, expecting, hoping, desiring that the time would soon come when I should die and be for ever with my Saviour, to see him as he is and be like him."

By-and-bye he was directed to George Street Chapel, Manchester, where Mr. Gadsby had begun to minister the Gospel, and finding in him kindred sentiments and a similar spirit, he threw in his lot amongst his people, and was the first whom Mr. G. baptised in Manchester. We are now called to look at his PIETY AND POVERTY.-God had a great work for him to do;

me.

Trade

and for this purpose he must be made to feel the pinchings of poverty, and to see the wonder-working hand of God in his deliverances. Hence he was often in straitened circumstances. Let him tell us a few: "At this time I had two small children. was very bad, and provisions dear. It was what we called Barley times. At the very time my wife was taken in labour we were without a sixpence. What to do for a little money, or where to go and borrow it, I could not tell. I did nothing but cry, O Lord what shall I do? Do direct me what to do, and whither to go.' It struck my mind that I would go to the master for whom I worked and ask him to lend me half-a-guinea. When I arrived at the master's house and asked him to do me the favour, he fetched me the half-guinea without either a frown or cross look, for I watched him closely. Then I knew that the Lord had been before me, for he was not in the habit of lending money to his weavers. I saw that it was the Lord's doing. As I was walking down the street from the warehouse, blessing and praising God, I suddenly met, as I was crossing the road, a man whom I knew by sight from having often seen him at the chapel I attended. In passing, he blessed me in the name of the Lord, and held out his hand to shake hands with He ran off, leaving me in the middle of the street utterly astounded to find he had left half-a-guinea in my hand. There I stood for some time adoring, praising, and blessing God, and should have stayed longer had not a coachman, who was driving a coach up the street, called me a fool and told me to get out of the road. Upon looking round, I saw, for the first time, that there was a a number of people collected together, to gaze at me, in doubt I dare say whether I had not made my escape from a mad-house." Again. His home was a cellar, and the landlord began to want him out. "Now indeed, thought I, it is all over with me. There are £4 due for rent, and not four pence in the world have I towards paying it. But the greatest trial of all was that God hid his face from me. I tried every possible way to get the money, but all in vain. A day or two after this I finished the work I had in the loom and carried it home to my master. As I was coming out of the warehouse, a thought struck me that I would call upon one of the deacons of the church, whose name was Ramsay. I was very kindly received: 'Never fear, John,' said he, 'your goods will not be sold; Mr. Clegg has got the money for you, and has been expecting you to call upon him.' I went to Mr. Clegg. The old gentleman gave me the money; and we both wept together for joy. I got out of town some way or other, but how I knew not, for I had such a weight of glory to carry that at times I had to put my hand upon my mouth until I got into the fields, and then I gave vent to body and soul, sometimes dancing and shouting his praises, sometimes on my knees blessing and thanking nım. I called him

all the endearing names my soul could think of, or my tongue utter; and such glorious views I had of the glory of God, both in providence and grace, that I was so lost at times that I did not know where I was or whither I was going."

Another instance is worth recording :-"One Saturday I was all confusion, for I could not get a text, and I had to supply on the Lord's day for Mr. Gadsby. O, thinks I, what shall I do, and where shall I go? To finish up my misery, late on Saturday night I received a note from a man to whom I owed £2 10s., saying that if I did not pay it on the Monday following he would not wait any longer, and that it would be in vain for me to come and beg for any longer time. O what a tremendous night I had to pass through, sometimes almost in despair. I left home on the Lord's day for Manchester. If ever I did pray in my life I prayed those five miles that God would appear for me that day both in providence and in grace. When I began to preach, the £2 10s. were all taken away, and I do believe that the Lord was with me. As I was going out of the chapel, an old lady put out her hand to shake hands, and left half-a-guinea in my hand. O, thinks I, who can tell but God may put it into the hearts of whom he will to give me the rest." Going into the vestry after the afternoon service, the old lady who had befriended him in the morning was there. She shook hands with him, and said, "Sir, when I got home my heart smote me as David's heart smote him." My heart trembled. Surely, thought I, she has come for the half-guinea back again. What shall I do? But instead of this, the old lady said, 'My heart smote me because I did not give you more, and I will now give you £2 more.' At which I burst into a flood of tears, for I could not help it." He told her all his troubles, at which the old lady cried too, and would fain have had him take the contents of her purse, amounting to ten or twelve pounds, but honest John would not take more than he needed for present wants, observing-"God has put it in your heart to give me the debt, and sixpence over, and I dare not take one penny more, and will not. What God moved you to give is mine; the rest is yours."

With instances such as these the book before us abounds; but giving these as specimens we now present our readers with our friend's

CALL TO THE MINISTRY.-The first moving of God in his soul for the work of the ministry was when he was baptised by "that dear man of God," W. Gadsby. At the close of the ceremony, Mr. G. begged God to raise John up as an instrument in his hands for his own glory and the cause of truth. "I believed and felt in my very soul," he says, "whilst in the water, that God heard and answered every word that flowed out of his (Mr. Gadsby's) mouth,

and my soul was so swallowed up in glory that I did not know whether I was in the body or out of the body. After this, I was not like the same man. I had no rest nor peace but in reading, searching, and praying over the word of God at every opportunity. O what a spirit of prayer I felt that God would open my understanding to understand the Scriptures, and how many times did those blessed words of David come into my soul with power, 'Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.' I felt such wrestling at times with God that he would show me the meaning of his blessed word, that both body and soul have been quite weak and feeble, and sometimes such light would shine and flow into my heart from a text of Scripture that it set my very. soul all on a flame of love to God and his people. But alas! when I looked at my situation in providence, with hardly a shoe to my foot, with a large family of little children, over head and ears in debt, many times with not half a bellyfull of victuals, without any human learning, except just enough to read some parts of the Bible, and hardly able to write my own name properly, 'good Lord,' cried I, 'what can I be at?' Surely I must be mad to think of preaching, such a fool as I. Then I determined to trouble my head no more about it, and did all I could to put it out of my thoughts. But it was just like trying to empty a spring, for it flowed into my mind as fast as ever I tried to put it out." After days and nights of deep anguish, interspersed with seasons of enravishing communion with God, in which he felt an unmistakeable drawing out to the ministry, he was appointed to address a public audience. He went at the appointed time, begging of God that he would decide the matter for him. After he had read his text, the fear of man taken away, and the Lord broke in upon his soul; his mouth was opened, and indeed he had a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. A fortnight afterwards he again held forth the word of life with similar enlargement of heart, God making his message a blessing to the hearers. But although a chosen vessel, a deeply exercised child of God, and one who held communion with heaven beyond his fellows, he seems to have been subject to manifold infirmities; for vanity began to rise in his heart, and he found himself at times looking forward to a period when he should occupy a commanding place in the religious world. The story of the workings of pride within him, and of the way which God took to check or destroy it, forms the most remarkable piece of autobiography we ever read. Few men, we think, ever had the honesty to relate anything like the following, nor would they wish it to be told after their death:-"After concluding, I overheard some of the people whispering how well I had preached, and they had no doubt I should be a very great preacher, and one of them whispered to another that he was sure I should be a second Gadsby. O how

was