have not courage or strength to bear it!" True; not of yourself: but you that believe "can do all things through Christ strengthening you." If "thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth." No cross is too heavy for him to bear; knowing that they that "suffer with him shall reign with him." Say not, Nay, but I cannot bear to be singular." Then you cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven. No one enters there but through the narrow way; and all that walk in this are singular. Say not, "But I cannot endure the reproach, the odious name of an informer." And did any man ever save his soul, that was not a byword, and a proverb of reproach? Neither canst thou ever save thine, unless thou art willing that men should say all manner of evil of thee. Say not, "But if I am active in this work, I shall lose, not only my reputation, but my friends, my customers, my business, my livelihood; so that I shall be brought to poverty." Thou shalt not; thou canst not; it is absolutely impossible, unless God himself chooseth it; for his "kingdom ruleth over all," and "the very hairs of thy head are all numbered." But if the wise, the gracious God choose it for thee, wilt thou murmur or complain? Wilt thou not rather say, "The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" If you "suffer for Christ, happy are you; the Spirit of glory and of God" shall "rest upon you." Say not, "I would suffer all things, but my wife will not consent to it; and, certainly, a man ought to leave father and mother and all, and cleave to his wife." True; all but God; all but Christ: but he ought not to leave him for his wife! He is not to leave any duty undone, for the dearest relative. Our Lord himself hath said in this very sense, "If any man love father, or mother, or wife, or children, more than me, he is not worthy of me. Say not, Well, I would forsake all for Christ; but one duty must not hinder another; and this would frequently hinder my attending public worship." times it probably would.

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"Go then, and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." And

whatever is lost by showing this mercy, God will repay seven-fold into thy bosom. Say not, "But I shall hurt my own soul. I am a young man; and by taking up loose women I shall expose myself to temptation." Yes, if you did this in your own strength, or for your own pleasure. But that is, not the case. You trust in God; and you aim at pleasing him only. And if he should call you even into the midst of a burning fiery-furnace, "though thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flames kindle upon thee.” "True; if he called me into the furnace; but I do not see that I am called to this." Perhaps thou art not willing to see it. However, if thou wast not called before, I call thee now, in the name of Christ: take up thy cross and follow him! Reason no more with flesh and blood, but now resolve to cast in thy lot with the most despised, the most infamous of his followers; the filth and offscouring of the world! I call thee in particular, who didst once strengthen their hands, but since art drawn back. Take courage! be strong! Fulfil their joy by returning with heart and hand! Let it appear thou "departedst for a season, that they might receive thee again for ever." Oh, be "not disobedient to the heavenly calling!" And, as for all of you who know whereunto ye are called, count ye all things loss, so ye may save one soul for which Christ died! And therein "take no thought for the morrow," but "cast all your care on Him that careth for you!" Commit your souls, bodies, substance, all to him, as unto a merciful and faithful Creator!"

**After this Society had subsisted several years, and done unspeakable good, it was wholly destroyed by a verdict given against it in the King's Bench, with three hundred pounds damages. I doubt a severe account remains for the witnesses, the jury, and all who were concerned in that dreadful affair!

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SERMON LIII.

ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

PREACHED AT THE CHAPEL IN TOTTENHAM-COURT Road, and at THE TABERNACLE NEAR MOORFIELDS, ON SUNDAY, Nov. 18, 1770.

"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!"-NUM. xxiii. 10.

1. "LET my last end be like his!" How many of you join in this wish? Perhaps there are few of you who do not, even in this numerous congregation! And oh, that this wish may rest upon your minds!—that it may not die away till your souls also are lodged "where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest!"

2. An elaborate exposition of the text will not be expected on this occasion. It would detain you too long from the sadly-pleasing thought of your beloved brother, friend, and pastor; yea, and father, too: for how many are here whom he hath "begotten in the Lord!" Will it not, then, be more suitable to your inclinations, as well as to this solemnity, directly to speak of this man of God, whom you have so often heard speaking in this place!-the end of whose conversation ye know, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever." And may we not,

I. Observe a few particulars of his life and death? II. Take some view of his character? And,

III. Inquire how we may improve this awful providence, his sudden removal from us?

I. 1. We may, in the first place, observe a few particulars of his life and death. He was born at Gloucester

in December, 1714, and put to a grammar-school there, when about twelve years old. When he was seventeen, he began to be seriously religious, and served God to the best of his knowledge. About eighteen he removed to the University, and was admitted at Pembroke College in Oxford; and about a year after, he became acquainted with the Methodists, (so called,) whom from that time he loved as his own soul.

2. By them he was convinced that we "must be born again," or outward religion will profit us nothing. He joined with them in fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays; in visiting the sick and the prisoners; and in gathering up the very fragments of time, that no moment might be lost and he changed the course of his studies; reading chiefly such books as entered into the heart of religion, and led directly to an experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

3. He was soon tried as with fire. Not only his reputation was lost, and some of his dearest friends forsook him; but he was exercised with inward trials, and those of the severest kind. Many nights he lay sleepless upon his bed; many days, prostrate on the ground. But after he had groaned several months under "the spirit of bondage," God was pleased to remove the heavy load, by giving him "the Spirit of adoption;" enabling him, through a living faith, to lay hold on "the Son of his love."

4. However, it was thought needful, for the recovery of his health, which was much impaired, that he should go into the country. He accordingly went to Gloucester, where God enabled him to awaken several young persons. These soon formed themselves into a little society, and were some of the first-fruits of his labour. Shortly after, he began to read, twice or thrice a week, to some poor people in the town; and every day to read to and pray with the prisoners in the county jail.

5. Being now about twenty-one years of age, he was solicited to enter into holy orders. Of this he was

greatly afraid, being deeply sensible of his own insufficiency. But the bishop himself sending for him, and telling him, "Though I had purposed to ordain none under three-and-twenty, yet I will ordain you whenever you come," and several other providential circumstances concurring,―he submitted, and was ordained on Trinity Sunday, 1736. The next Sunday he preached to a crowded auditory, in the church wherein he was baptized. The week following he returned to Oxford, and took his Bachelor's degree: and he was now fully employed; the care of the prisoners and the poor lying chiefly on him.

6. But it was not long before he was invited to London, to serve the cure of a friend going into the country. He continued there two months, lodging in the Tower, reading prayers in the chapel twice a week, catechising and preaching once, besides visiting the soldiers in the barracks and the infirmary. He also read prayers every evening at Wapping chapel, and preached at Ludgate prison every Tuesday. While he was here, letters came from his friends in Georgia, which made him long to go and help them: but not seeing his call clear, at the appointed time he returned to his little charge at Oxford, where several youths met daily at his room, to build up each other in their most holy faith.

7. But he was quickly called from hence again, to supply the cure of Dummer, in Hampshire. Here he read prayers twice a day; early in the morning, and in the evening after the people came from work. He also daily catechised the children, and visited from house to house. He now divided the day into three parts, allotting eight hours for sleep and meals, eight for study and retirement, and eight for reading prayers, catechising, and visiting the people. Is there a more excellent way for a servant of Christ and his church? If not, who will " go and do likewise?"

8. Yet his mind still ran on going abroad; and being now fully convinced he was called of God thereto, he