trust he will again set you upon your legs, and open your mouth, and cause you and others to say, He has done all things well. At any rate he will do you good. He often moves in a mysterions way; but he has wise reasons for all his appointments. Believe, wait, and pray, and endeavour to shake off all thoughts of declining your post as a minister with abhorrence.

I see that if you preach at all, you will in due time be an extempore preacher. Be assured, this practice does not depend upon natural ability or great learning, when the heart is rightly disposed and the mind competently furnished with the knowledge of the truth, and the person really called of the Lord to preach the Gospel. I am very sure your abilities, of every kind, greatly exceed those of many who are called Methodist preachers amongst us, who yet do very well. It is true they are not all masters of logic, nor very accurate; but I know some who speak sensibly, with power and unction, by whom the Lord binds up the broken-hearted and awakens the dead. The habit of preaching extempore is a gift, to be obtained by prayer and strengthened by exercise. The chief obstacles are unbelief, a regard to self, and a fear of man. I believe, my dear friend, if our minds were duly impressed with all the topics of the Gospel, it would be difficult to study a sermon. If I was sure that both I and all my auditory were to die and appear before God the moment I had finished my next sermon, how little should I attend to the minutiae of arrangement and style? My heart would teach my mouth, my thoughts would be weighty, too big indeed for words fully to express, yet it is probable they would find the fittest words I was master of, waiting for employment. When you try you will have trepidations and variations. You will speak sometimes much better, and sometimes much worse, than you expect beforehand. You will often perceive your own insufficiency; and now and then perhaps your hearers will perceive it likewise. But upon the whole you will get forward; you will preach more pleasantly to yourself, and more acceptably to the spiritual and simple part of your hearers. You may sometimes put a sentence out of its proper place, and expose yourself to the notice of little nibbling critics, who make a man an offender for a word; but this you will not greatly mind if you are successful in winning and edifying souls.

When I see you in London, we will talk over the Protestant association. It will hardly quit cost to write about it. It is not needful

that we should think alike upon all subjects, or that when we differ you should labour to accede to my sentiments. I am such an enemy to Popery, that I dislike it even when it appears in a Protestant form. And all parties of Protestants are in my view more or less infected with it. If I claim the liberty of seeing with my own eyes, I speak like a Protestant: if I expect other people to see with my eyes, or am ready to despise or punish them because they cannot or will not, I so far act in the spirit of Popery. I do not wish to see Popery prevail in England, but should the Lord so permit, I think it a judg ment which we have well deserved. As a Christian and member of the kingdom which is not of this world, I know not that I am called to prevent the growth of Popery any other way, than by preaching he truth, by prayer, and by a Gospel conversation. As to what can be done by edicts and penalties, let the dead bury their dead, I leave it to the men of the world who can see no other walls or bulwarks for the security of the church of Christ, than such as they are able to build themselves. The Lord has sometimes called his true disciples to the honour of imprisonment and death for his sake. Flesh and blood is not very ambitious of this honour; and if by godly zeal, brotherly love, and a holy conversation, we may be able to engage him on our side, our privileges may be secured, and I shall be very glad. But I dare not look to any protection but his. I have nothing to do with an arm of flesh in this business. At present, I must own infidelity and contempt of God appear to me more terrible, more upon the increase, and more likely to be our ruin than Popery. If there was not a Papist in the kingdom, I should still be afraid that we are almost ripe for destruction. Most of our fears and contrivances respecting Popery, seem to spring from a love of ease, and a dread of the cross. How it may be in Scotland I know not; but I believe that the most of those who were very loud against Popery, had little more regard for the true Gospel than the Papists themselves. And though there were some good persons among them, it seemed to me that the majority of serious people were quiet in their tents, and more taken up with mourning over the general prevalence of sin, than with the liberty granted to the Papists.

I enclose an address to my parishioners, which I sent to every house. Two or three persons have thanked me for it-some I hear were rather offended, and some would not read it. But if the Lord is pleased to make it useful to one person, it will be worth the while.

One of my views is answered. I have discharged my conscience. I could not be easy without attempting to put a warning word in their way. It will stand as a testimony that I wished them well.

Mr. Jarment has been with me but once, I can hardly expect to see him again, except I should call upon him; and my foolish head has forgotten the name of the person with whom he lodges. I did not set it down when he told me, and could not recollect it afterward.

We still jog on comfortably-we have some trials, but our mercies are innumerable. The Lord affords me liberty and acceptance in my public work. A want of leisure is some inconvenience. I cannot write much, but hope I am not quite idle. Mrs. Newton joins me in love, and in a hope that we may yet see you some time in London, if our lives are prolonged. Such an interview would afford great pleasure to her, and to

Your affectionate friend and servant,
JOHN NEWTON.

Hoxton, Dec. 14, 1781.

THE REV. JOHN NEWTON TO THE REV. WM. BARLASS.

My dear Friend,

IF the gloom with which your bodily complaint overspreads your mind, should have led you to charge my delay to unkindness, I am sorry for it. But I will not plead guilty to such a charge. I wished to have written immediately; but so many indispensables have engaged me, that I could not answer sooner. In my present situation, it is morally impossible to write just when I please, and some letters from persons whom I dearly love was unanswered perhaps a whole twelvemonth.

How far the reasons you assign may make it necessary to resign your present charge I cannot judge. If you cannot yourself preach, your people must have supplies, and these will require expense. I hope the Lord will continue to make them both able and willing to bear this burden; and so far as your personal and private visits among them are interrupted, he can make up the deficiency by his own gracious communications. I still hope his blessing upon air and exercise, when the weather becomes favourable, will restore you to

the service you love. I pray that they, and especially you, may wait for him with patience. Your desire to lay out your whole time in their service, is from himself, and he will accept it according to the willing mind he has given you. But self is apt to mix with our best desires, and prompt us to suppose that nothing can go on well, if the plans which we form are straitened and interrupted. We can hardly be busy without thinking ourselves rather important; and then the Lord sometimes lays us aside for a season, to teach us that he can make shift to carry on his work without us. I see not but your sickness, like the apostle's imprisonment, which shut him out for public service, may prove rather to the furtherance than to the hinderance of the Gospel. You may yet live to see better days where you are at present placed. I hope you will. As to your dismission, think not of it till your people propose and expect it, or till it is recommended to you by those who have a right to interfere. It should by no means originate from yourself. You may preach very effectually to all about you, by your patience and resignation to the will of God. It is easy to talk of these things from the pulpit ; but the proof of the pilot is in the storm. I admire an expression I have met of Dr. Cotton Mather's to this purpose, "My usefulness was the last idol I was willing to part with, but the Lord has enabled me to give even this up. I am now content to be laid aside, overlooked, neglected, and forgotten-only let his wise and holy will be done."

But when you speak of giving up the ministry itself, I cannot well understand you. It sounds to me almost like giving up the Gospel profession. Have you not devoted yourself to his service? Did you not do this without any reserve? I am persuaded you did not make articles with him that you would be his servant provided he would give you good health, strong spirits, and all circumstances to your wishes; but if these were affected you would withdraw your shoulder from the yoke. In my view, the character of a minister of the Gospel, when sought and accepted upon right motives, and received by a public designation, is indelible; and we can no more part with it than we can part with our skins. It is not absolutely necessary that you should always be a pastor, but I think you must be a minister to the hour of your death. Would you have the world think or say, that you thought the Lord's service desirable, and therefore engaged in it; but upon trial it did not answer your expectations, and therefore you gave it up?

As to your fears that the Lord is provoked to reject your services, they arise from the advantage Satan takes of your low spirits. They are utterly groundless. You mistake in thinking you would terrify me if you were to open your heart me on the subject of your provocations. I have a heart of my own which would at least equally astonish you, if it durst show itself. But what is it we preach? the law or the Gospel? You know the Lord has given you to love his truth, his cause, his service, and his people. You know you would willingly spend and be spent for his sake. How can you then indulge so hard a thought of him, as some parts of your letter seem to express. But indeed they are not your own thoughts; you know better. But among your other sins, and heart evils, you have a little of the root of unbelief remaining in your heart; and your present situation gives the enemy an opportunity of working upon your unbelief, and almost pushing you upon conclusions contrary to your better judgment. Do not give place to this enemy; resist him to the utmost of your power, and he will flee from you. Bring all your plans and wishes, and cast them, and yourself with them, at the Lord's feet, and there lie till he bid you rise. You have need of patience, and he has it in abundance to give you. Pray him to show you that absolute resignation to his will is the very summit of a Christian's character, and the great secret of possessing peace. Do not wish to die, (though you had the strongest assurance of heaven,) because life is burdensome to you. He is worthy for whom we suffer these things. He had power over his own life; yet, though it was very burdensome to him in Gethsemane and upon the cross, he would not give it up till he could say, It is finished. Time is shortand our sufferings-though flesh and sense make much ado about them, yet when measured by the standard of truth, and weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, are comparatively both light and transient.

I pity you, and feel for you in your trials, but I must not encourage your despondency.

My parishioners are much as formerly-very civil and polite to me they give me no trouble; but not many of them are disposed to hear me, especially of the richer sort. I know not that they were angry with my address, nor do I know that it pleased them. I heard little or nothing about it either way. But it was a relief to my own mind. I could wish to be useful to the people who by law are obliged