invalid at the close of the conversation. The Spirit of God was evidently striving with him. With weeping eyes and the tenderness of a child, he exclaimed, "O, sir, this is just what I need. I am standing between both worlds, and in all the universe around me I see but one object upon which I can fix my eyes with confidence, and that is the cross. I tremble even as I look at that symbol of love and mercy. O, can it be that I may be saved?"

I conversed with him longer, and commended him to the grace of God in prayer.

For more than a week after this visit I was absent at conference, leaving my charge in the care of a local preacher, who visited him daily. During one of these calls he received peace in believing, and had since been daily sinking under disease, but rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. On my return I immediately visited him. He was not expected to survive the day. His utterance was difficult, but his mind glowed with that brilliancy and vigor which so often accompany this fatal, but gentle disease. His late, but complete change, was a remarkable instance of the power of grace, and the Lord deigned to him a triumphant exit. It would be interesting to give the details of his final experience; but my design has been to show the

fallacy of his erroneous views, and this outline has already extended too far. Let it suffice to say, that the grace which had thus remarkably rescued him cheered with increasing consolation his remaining hours. I penciled a few of his dying sentences.

"How astonishing was my delusion! how different my life now looks! guilt-guilt-guilt -all is guilt. I am a brand plucked from the burning. I am saved on the very threshold of hell."

“O that I had more strength to praise Him! My time is so short, and so little of it has been devoted to Him, I want to testify his wonderful mercy every instant."

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"I cannot fear; his

rounds and sustains me.

boundless grace sur

Well did the Psalmist

call it the valley of the shadow of death.' It is but a shadow, a shade in a refreshing valley."

"I would not exchange this dying bed for the throne of a monarch; all my trust is in God, and I could now trust him, though all fallen spirits should gather about me. I am going, going, going to my Lord and Saviour; though at the eleventh hour, I am saved. I am saved. Let none hereafter despair."

With similar expressions, he lingered about

two hours, and then sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. "He that believeth shall be saved." Blessed be God, the truth has never failed.

ORIGIN OF THE METHODIST ECONOMY.

"God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the mighty."-Paul.

THE origin of Methodism has always appeared to me a remarkable chapter in the history of Providence, and its economy one of the most remarkable passages in that chapter.

Time has proved it to be the most efficient of all modern religious organizations, not only among the dispersed population of a new country, but also in the dense community of an ancient people; on the American frontier, and in the English city, it is found efficacious beyond all other plans, stimulating, impelling all others, and yet outstripping them.

This wonderful system of religious instrumentalities was not conceived a priori. It was not the result of sagacious foresight; it grew up spontaneously. Its elementary parts were evolved unexpectedly in the progress of the sect. Wesley saw that the state of religion throughout

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the English nation required a thorough reform; and "felt in himself," says Southey, "the power and the will for it, both in such plenitude, that they appeared to him a manifestation not to be doubted of the will of Heaven." He looked not into the future, but consulted only the openings of present duty. "Whither," says the same author, "they were to lead he knew not, nor what form of consistence the societies he was collecting would assume, nor where he was to find laborers as he enlarged the field of his operations, nor how the scheme was to derive its temporal support. But these considerations neither troubled him, nor made him for a moment foreslacken his course. God, he believed, had appointed it, and God would always appoint means for his own ends."

He expected at first to keep within the restrictions of the national Church, to which he was devotedly attached. The manner in which he was providentially led to adopt, one by one, the peculiar measures which at last consolidated into a distinct and unparalleled system, is an interesting feature in the history of Methodism. Let us trace it a moment.

The doctrines which he preached, and the novel emphasis with which he preached them, led to his expulsion from the pulpits of the

Establishment. This, together with the immense assemblies he attracted, compelled him to proclaim them in the open air—a measure which the moral wants of the country demanded, and which is justified, as well by the example of Christ as by its incalculable results.

The inconvenience of the "rooms" occupied by his followers for spiritual meetings at Bristol led to the erection of a more commodious edifice. This was a place of occasional preaching, then of regular worship, and finally, without the slightest anticipation of such a result, the first in a series of chapels which became the habitual resort of his followers, and thereby contributed, more, perhaps, than any other cause, to their organization into a distinct sect.

The debt incurred by this building rendered necessary a plan of contribution among those who assembled in it. They agreed to pay a penny a week. They were divided into companies of twelve, one of whom, called the leader, was appointed to receive their contributions. At their weekly meetings for the payment of this small sum, they found leisure for religious conversation and prayer. These companies, formed thus for a local and temporary object, were afterward called classes, and the arrangement was incorporated into the regular economy