present, with their sobs and groans for mercy. This

was a new thing, but not sufficient to impress the old professors. They were upon the eve of a glorious revival, and knew it not. The people were dismissed, and no farther attention paid to the incident. The praying youths, however, had prayed and wept too long to be indifferent; but there was no meeting for public prayer till the following Thursday night. "O!" said the person who related the circumstance to me, and who was one of the party which composed the secret prayer meeting, "O! it appeared to be a month till the next meeting.' The official men, in the mean time, foreboding some disturbance, became "nervous," and exceedingly afraid of excitement. Thursday night arrived, and the place was crowded. No one could tell why there was such an unusual stir; the secret was with the young men. Information reached the preacher stationed on the circuit; he came, and recognized it at once, as the beginning of a great work of God; and entered into it with the usual zeal of a Methodist minister. He adjourned the meeting into the chapel; the official members followed, curious to see the results; but in a short time God touched their hearts, and opened their eyes; and they were compelled to exclaim, "Surely God is in this place, and we knew it not." It was not long before scores of converted souls were added to the little society.

I could name a place where a revival began, a few years ago, under the following circumstances :

The society had long been in a low state of religious feeling, although additions, from time to time, had been made to their numbers. The previous preachers had been successful in winning people out of the world into the church, but, it would seem, they had had little success in converting them to Christ. Whether it was on account of the generally dead state or the members, or the indistinctness in their method of

preaching justification by faith, and the witness of the Spirit, or that they did not bestow sufficient labour to have such awakened sinners actually saved, the great day must declare.

A new preacher was sent to the town by Conference. Like a faithful man of God, he entered immediately upon a close examination of the classes, and was surprised and distressed, as we may suppose, to find upwards of two hundred persons, who, from their own admission, had never experienced anything more than mere conviction for sin. Afterwards he met the leaders, described to them the mournful condition of the church, and entreated them to exhort those whom they knew to be in an unconverted state, to press into the liberty of the children of God. The local preachers of that circuit were a numerous and respectable body. God at this time began to awaken them, in a deeper manner than formerly, to the necessity of mental improvement. They formed themselves into a theological society; and met once a week for the discussion of subjects of divinity. Two objects were constantly kept in view: 1st. To obtain a better understanding of the doctrines of the gospel; and, 2nd. That they might be qualified to preach those doctrines in a clearer and more effectual manner.

These "conversations" became increasingly interesting, and resulted in a deeper conviction than they had ever realized, of the necessity of preaching a present salvation to their hearers; and, moreover, that it was their duty and privilege, to expect an immediate effect.

From this time, the style of their preaching improved with the clearness of their perceptions of truth, combined with more expansive and enlightened views, as to the great design of the gospel to bring sinners at once to Christ. One and then another got out of his "old beaten track," and aimed directly at the conversion

of sinners. In the mean time their congregations increased surprisingly. The spirit of prayer and expectation came down upon believers. Faith, in reference to a general revival of God's work, increased daily. Many sinners were "pricked in their heart;” and this took place so repeatedly in the ordinary services, but certainly under extraordinary preaching, that they could conceal their disquietude no longer, and cries for mercy became of frequent occurrence. Additional meetings were now appointed. Crowds attended the meetings for prayer, as well as for preaching. The local preachers co-operated with their pastor, gave up their theological meeting, and, in their turn, preached the gospel with great power. The services were continued every night for a considerable length of time, and nearly five hundred sinners were converted to God, from nine years of age to ninety.

An account of a revival now lies before me, which occurred in another denomination. The minister of that church, whom God has greatly honoured for his faithfulness, in giving an account of the revival, states, that his church got into a very low desponding condition, and matters became so gloomy that he was upon the point of asking a dismission. Unlike some, he could not sit down at his ease, knowing that his labours were not blessed, careless whether poor sinners were saved or damned. No! he could not bear the thought of staying any longer in a place where he was conscientiously convinced he was useless. The time of extremity was God's opportunity. One Sabbath night, the Spirit of God arrested a young man; he desired to see the pastor, and opened his mind on the subject of his distress. A meeting for prayer had been appointed for that week, and when the time for beginning the prayer meeting arrived, to his astonishment, the place was crowded. A large number of persons were there, deeply distressed on account of their sins.

From that hour the revival advanced in power, and, according to the last account I heard, the number converted and added to his church, was above sixty souls; and many more were expected to unite themselves to it. I remain, your friend in Jesus Christ,

J. C.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER XXI.

TO THE SAME.

Hull, December 20th, 1843.

I WRITE to my correspondents just as I preach. Facts are my materials, and not theories. Not that I am insensible of the benefit of theories; they are very good in their place, nor do I neglect them. They may be to a discourse, what a foundation is to a building. A foundation answers no purpose, unless an edifice be raised upon it; but we want more than the foundation, in the construction of a seemly specimen of correct architecture. A sermon, all theory, is neither pleasing, profitable, nor effectual. I consider a theorem, of course, in the sense of a religious truth laid down as a principle, and treated in a speculative manner, without any illustration whatever. Our Lord never neglected first principles, but he never speculated upon them. He seldom advanced a theological principle, in the absence of an historical fact, nor the simplest moral truth, without an illustration of some kind, real or supposed.

The world is calling out for "illustrated science," in every department of literature. There is everywhere

a dissatisfaction with dry definitions and vague speculations. In a late London periodical, there is a very severe critique upon a certain work, entitled, " A History and Geography of Central Asia." The reviewer tells us that it is a very learned and a very useless work. After inquiring, What matters it to us of the present day, where imaginary rivers ran through doubtful provinces, watering apocryphal cities some centuries ago, belonging to hoards of barbarians, shifting as the sands with which they are surrounded, and often overwhelmed? he asserts, that all these should give way to actual observation: "The world," says he, "demands facts, and facts only, and turns aside with disgust from mere speculation. A few pages from the latest travellers who have explored those regions, are worth more than hundreds of volumes of mere controversy." With the above work I have nothing to do, for I have never seen it; but the remarks of the critic are just.

It is a remarkable peculiarity of the scientific lecturers of the present age, that they are universally fond of illustrating their principles by facts.

A few years ago, I was invited by a surgeon to hear a medical lecture, in the College of Physicians and Surgeons, in the city of New York. The platform was honoured by the presence of several talented physicians. We had been seated but a few minutes when an active little man, aged about fifty, made his appearance on the platform, Professor ***, and was cheered by the students. He announced his subject immediately: "The influence of the nerves upon the mind, and of the mind upon the nerves." Brisk, lively, and eloquent, he had our attention in a moment, nor did he lose it during the entire lecture. Principles were laid down at once, but instead of supporting theories by theories, and discussing them in the dry technicalities peculiar to the medical science, as I ex