a church. Four ordained ministers, friends to the work of God, have been with me. The word has run so swiftly at Leeds, that friends are come to fetch me back; and I am now going to Rotherdam, Wakefield, Leeds, York, and Epworth. God favors us with weather; and I would fain make hay whilst the sun shines. O that I had as many tongues, as there are hairs upon my head! The ever loving, ever lovely Jesus should have them all. Fain would I die preaching."

November 10, he arrived at the Tabernacle, in London. December 15, he says, "my hands are full of work; and I trust I can say, the Lord causes his work to prosper in my unworthy hands. More blessed seasons were never enjoyed. Our sacramental occasions have been exceedingly awful and refreshing."

He now thought of erecting a new Tabernacle, a capacious building, eighty feet square; which was finished the summer following. Mr. Hervey and he, about this time, were employed in revising each other's works. Of Mr. Hervey's he says"for me to play the critic on them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, I will just mark a few places, as you desire. I foretell their fate; nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without showing some resentment against its artful murderer."

Again, "I thank you a thousand times for the trouble you have been at revising my poor compositions, which I am afraid you have not treated with a becoming severity. How many pardons shall I ask for mangling, and I fear murdering your THERON and ASPASIO. If you think my two sermons will do for the public, pray return them immediately. I have nothing to comfort me but this, that the Lord chooses the weak things of this world, to confound the strong, and things that are not, to bring to nought things that are. I write for the poor-you for the polite and noble. God will assuredly own and bless what you write."

About this time he was very much afflicted, on account of the death of the Rev. Mr. Steward, a valuable minister, who began to be popular in the church, but was soon called to his everlasting rest. "When I met the workmen to contract about the building, I could scarce bear to think of building a Tabernacle. Strange! that so many should be so soon discharged, and we continued. Mr. Steward spoke for his Lord, as long as he could speak at all. He had no clouds nor darkness. I was with him till a few minutes before he slept in Jesus."

March 1, 1753, he laid the foundation of the new Tabernacle, and preached from Exodus xx. 24. While the building was

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target in his hand. We may suppose him to be the Roman centurion. To complete the scene, froin behind the purple hangings came out about twenty little purple vested winged boys, two by two, each bearing a lighted wax taper in his hand, and a crimson and gold cap on his head. At their entrance upon the stage, they gently bowed their heads to the spectators, then kneeled and made obeisance, first to the image on the cross, and then to that of the virgin Mary. When risen, they bowed to each other, and then took their respective places over against one another, on steps assigned for them at the front of the stage. Opposite to this, at a few yards distance, stood a black friar in a pulpit hung in mourning. For a while he paused, and then, breaking silence, gradually lifted up his voice until it was extended to a pretty high pitch, though I think scarcely high enough for so large an auditory. After he had proceeded in his discourse about a quarter of an hour, a confused noise was heard near the front great door; upon turning my head, I saw four long bearded men, two of whom carried a ladder on their shoulders, and after them followed two more with large gilt dishes in their hands, full of linen, spices, &c. These, as I imagined, were the representatives of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. On a signal given from the pulpit, they adBut upon their first vanced towards the steps of the scaffold. attempting to mount it, at the watchful centurion's nod, the observant soldiers made a pass at them, and presented the points of their javelins directly to their breasts. They are repulsed. Upon this a letter from Pilate is produced. The centurion reads it, shakes his head, and with looks that bespoke a forced compliance, beckons to the sentinels to withdraw thei⚫ arms. Leave being thus obtained, they ascend; and having paid their homage, by kneeling first to the image on the cross, and then to the virgin Mary, they retired to the back of the stage. Still the preacher continued declaiming, or rather, as was said, explaining the mournful scene. Magdalen persists in wringing her hands, and variously expressing her personated sorrow; while John, seemingly regardless of all besides, stood gazing on the crucified figure. By this time it was near three o'clock, and therefore proper for the scene to begin to close. The ladders are ascended, the superscription and crown of thorns taken off, long white rollers put around the arms of the image, and then the nails knocked out which fastened the hands and feet. Here Mary Magdalen looks most languishing, and John, if possible, stands more thunder-struck than before. The orator lifts up his voice, and almost all the hearers expressed concern by weeping, beating their breasts, and smiting their cheeks. At length the body is gently let down. Magdalen

eyes it, and, gradually rising, receives the feet into her wide spread handkerchief; while John, who hitherto stood motionless like a statue, as the body came nearer the ground, with an eagerness that bespoke the intense affection of a sympathizing friend, runs toward the cross, seizes the upper part of it into his clasping arms, and, with his disguised fellow-mourner, helps to bear it away. And here the play should end, were I not afraid you would be angry with me, if I did not give you an account of the last act, by telling you what became of the corpse after it was taken down. Great preparations were made for its interment. It was wrapped in linen and spices, &c., and being laid upon a bier richly hung, was afterwards carried round the church yard in grand procession. The image of the virgin Mary was chief mourner, and John and Magdalen, with a whole troop of friars, with wax tapers in their hands, followed after. Determined to see the whole, I waited its return, and in about a quarter of an hour the corpse was brought in, and deposited in an open sepulchre prepared for the purpose; but not before a priest, accompanied by several of the same order in splendid vestments, had perfumed it with incense, sung to, and kneeled before it. John and Magdalen attended the obsequies; but the image of the virgin Mary was carried away and placed upon the front of the stage, in order to be kissed, adored, and worshipped by the people. This I saw them do with the utmost eagerness and reverence. And thus ended this Good Friday's tragi-comical, superstitions, idolatrous farce. A farce, which, while I saw, as well as now while I am describing it, excited in me a high indignation. Surely, thought I, while attending on such a scene of mock devotion, if ever, now is the Lord Jesus crucified afresh; and I could then, and even now, think of no other plea for the poor beguiled devotees, than that which suth ring innocence put up himself for his enemies, when actually hanging upon the cross: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.' There was but one thing wanting to raise one's resentment to the highest pitch, and that was, for one of the soldiers to have picreed the side of the image upon the cross. This in all probability you have heard has actually been done in other places, and with a little more art, might, I think, have been performed here. Doubtless it would have afforded the preacher as good, if not a Letter opportunity of working upon the passions of his auditory, than the taking down the superscription and crown of thorns, and wiping the head with a blooded cloth, and afterwards exposing it to the view of the people; all which I saw dene before the body was let down. But alas! my dear friend, how mean is that eloquence, and how entirely destitute of the demonstration of the