presence; but I retained those gracious impressions only for a short time."

It so happened that he was employed to abridge and print the life of Eugene Aram, a remarkable man, who was executed for a case of murder, in a strange manner brought to light long after the commission of the crime. The account of this person's extraordinary attainments kindled Story with emulation, and he had determined to take as much pains himself in the acquirement of knowledge, when some thoughts fastened upon his mind, and broke in pieces all his schemes. "The wisdom of this world," said he to himself, "is foolishness with God. What did this man's wisdom profit him? It did not save him from being a thief and a murderer;-no, nor from attempting his own life. True wisdom is foolishness with men. He that will be wise, must first become a fool that he may be wise. I was like a man awakened out of sleep," he continues: "I was astonished; I felt myself wrong; I was conscious I had been pursuing a vain shadow, and that God only could direct me into the right path. 1, therefore, applied to him with earnest importunity, entreating him to show me the true way to happiness, which I was determined to follow, however difficult or dangerous.' Just at this time Methodism began to flourish in his native village: his mother joined the Society, and sent him a message, entreating him to converse with persons of this description. To gratify her, being an obedient son, he called accordingly at a Methodist's house, and the persons who were assembled there went to prayer with him, and for him, a considerable time. The result was, as might be expected, he looked upon them as well-meaning ignorant people, and thought no more about the matter. After a few days they desired he would come again; and he, considering that it was his mother's request, went without hesitation, though perhaps not very desirous of being prayed for a second time. On this occasion, however, argument was tried; and he disputed with them for some hours, till they were fairly wearied, without having produced the slightest im

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pression upon him. To attack him on the side of his reason, was not indeed the way by which such reasoners were likely to prevail; such a proceeding would serve only to stimulate his vanity and provoke his pride; and, accordingly, he was about to withdraw, not a little elevated with the triumph which he had obtained, when a woman of the company desired to ask him a few questions. The first was, "Are you happy?" His countenance instantly fell, and he honestly answered, "No."-" Are you not desirous of finding happiness?" she pursued. He replied, that he was desirous of obtaining it on any terms, and had long sought for it in every way, but in vain. She then told him, that if he sought the Lord with all his heart, he would certainly find in him that peace and pleasure which the world could not bestow. The right string had now been touched: every word sunk deep into his mind; and he says, that from that moment he never lost his resolution of being truly devoted to God.

The books which had misled him he cast into the fire; and willing as he now was to be led astray in a different direction by his new associates, his happy disposition preserved him. Not having the horrible fears, and terrors, and agonies, which others declared they had experienced in the new-birth, and of which exhibitions were frequently occurring, he endeavoured to bring himself into the same state, but never could succeed in inducing these throes of spiritual labour. Yet thinking it a necessary part of the process of regeneration, and not feeling that consciousness of sanctification which his fellows professed, doubts came upon him thick and thronging. Sometimes he fell back toward his old skepticism: sometimes inclined to the miserable notion of predestination; plunging, as he himself expresses it, into the blackness of darkness. He found at length the folly of reasoning himself into despair, and the unreasonableness of expecting a miraculous manifestation in his own bodily feelings; and he learned, in the true path of Christian humility, to turn from all presumptuous reasonings, and staying his mind upon God.

to repose and trust in him with a child-like entireness of belief and love. This was at first mortifying to his proud reason and vain imagination; but it brought with it at length "an ever-permanent peace, which kept his heart in the knowledge and love of God;" not the overflowing joys which he expected, and had been taught to expect, by enthusiastic men; but that peace which God himself hath assured to all who seek him in humility and truth, and which passeth all understanding. There is not, in the whole hagiography of Methodism a more interesting or more remarkable case than this: -living among the most enthusiastic Methodists, enrolled among them, and acting and preaching with them for more than fifty years, George Story never became an enthusiast: his nature seems not to have been susceptible of the contagion,

CHAPTER XIX.

PROVISION FOR THE LAY-PREACHERS AND THEIR FAMI→ LIES. KINGSWOOD SCHOOL-THE CONFERENCE,

Ar first there was no provision made for the laypreachers. The enthusiasts who offered themselves to the work literally took no thought for the morrow what they should eat, nor what they should drink, nor yet for the body what they should put on. They trusted in Him who feedeth the fowls of the air, and who sent his ravens to Elijah in the wilderness. "He who had a staff," says one of these first intinerants, "might take one; he who had none might go without." They were lodged and fed by some of the Society wherever they went; and when they wanted clothes, if they were not supplied by individual friends, they represented their necessity to the stewards. St. Francis and his followers did not commit themselves with more confidence to the care of

Providence, nor with a more entire disregard of all human means. But the Friars Minorite were marked by their habit for privileged, as well as peculiar persons; and as they professed poverty, the poorer and the more miserable their appearance, the greater was the respect which they obtained from the people. In England rags were no recommendation; and it was found a great inconvenience that the popular itinerants should be clothed in the best apparel, while the usefulness of their fellows, who were equally devoted to the cause, was lessened by the shabbiness of their appearance. To remedy this evil it was at length agreed, that every circuit should allow its preacher three pounds per quarter to provide himself with clothing and books. Not long after this arrangement had been made, Mr. Wesley proposed that Mather should go with him into Ireland on one of his preaching expeditions, and promised that his wife should be supported during his absence. Mather cheerfully consented; but when he came to talk with his friends upon the subject, they cautioned him to beware how he relied for his wife's support upon a mere promise of this kind; for, when Mr. Wesley was gone, the matter would rest with the stewards. Upon this Mather thought it necessary to talk with the stewards himself: they asked him how much would be sufficient for his wife ; and when he said four shillings a week, they thought it more than could be afforded, and Mather, therefore, refused to undertake the journey. However, in the course of the ensuing year, the necessity of making some provision for the wives of the itinerants was clearly perceived, and the reasonableness of Mather's demand was acknowledged. He was called upon to travel accordingly, and from that time the stated allowance was continued for very many years at the sum which he had fixed. A further allowance was made of twenty shillings a quarter for every child; and when a preacher was at home, the wife was entitled to eighteen-pence a day for his board; the computation being four-pence for breakfast, sixpence for dinner, and four-pence each for tea and

supper; with the condition, that whenever he was invited out, a deduction was to be made for the meal.

But further relief was still necessary for those married preachers who gave themselves up wholly to the service of Methodism. Their boys, when they grew too big to be under the mother's direction, were in a worse state than other children, and were exposed to a thousand temptations, having no father to control and instruct them. "Was it fit," said Wesley, that the children of those who leave wife, home, and all that is dear, to save souls from death, should want what is needful either for soul or body? Ought not the Society to supply what the parent could not, because of his labours in the Gospel?— The preacher, eased of this weight, would go on the more cheerfully, and perhaps many of these children might, in time, fill up the place of those who should have rested from their labours." The obvious remedy was to found a school for the sons of the preachers; and thinking that the wealthier members of the Society would rejoice if an opportunity were given them to separate their children from the contagion of the world, he seems to have hoped that the expenses of the eleemosynary part of the institution might in great measure be defrayed by their means.

Some tracts upon education had led him to consider the defects of English schools; the mode of teaching, defective as that is, he did not regard; it was the moral discipline which fixed his attention; and in founding a seminary for his own people, whose steady increase he now contemplated as no longer doubtful, he resolved to provide, as far as possible, against all the evils of the existing institutions. The first point was to find a situation not too far from a great town, which would be very inconvenient for so large a household as he was about to establish, nor yet too near, and much less in it. For in towns, the boys whenever they went abroad, would have too many things to engage their thoughts, which ought, he said, to be diverted as little as possible from the objects of their learning; and they would have too