rative; he has added " reflections to his tale," and both as a theologist, and an advocate of the National Church, he has assumed the critic and the censor. His qualifications under these characters must, therefore, be put to the test,

1. Mr. Southey's Theological Qualifications.

The leading points on which Mr. Southey, as the Biographer of Mr. Wesley, was called to express a judgment were, his religious character; his doctrines; his labours as a minister; and their results. All these evidently involve theological principles, and with them Mr. Southey's mind is but slenderly furnished. Of this, the account he has given of Mr. Wesley's conversion is a pregnant example.

It would be difficult to fix upon a more interesting and instructive moral spectacle than that which is presented in the progress of the mind of the Founder of Methodism, through all its deep and serious agitations, doubts, difficulties, hopes, and fears, from his earliest religious awakenings, to the moment when he found that steadfast peace which never afterwards forsook him, but gave serenity to his countenance, and cheerfulness to his heart, to the last moment of a prolonged life. Even in Mr. Southey's caricatured representation, and in despite of the frequent recurrence of flippant, and fatuous observations, it has an awe which frowns down ridicule, or kindles indignation at such an intrusion on scenes so hallowed. The heart is not to be envied, whatever affectation of philosophy there may be,

which can suffer itself to be so far misled by those minor circumstances of the case, which, by forgetting times and circumstances, may appear somewhat singular and extravagant, as to overlook those great considerations which force themselves upon all but, the lightest minds, when the history of a mind so impressed and influenced, is candidly and honestly laid open. His were inward conflicts which many besides have felt, but which are seldom brought forth from the recesses of the bosoms they have so variously agitated. Yet they are not cases of merely individual concern. We all have errors to be dissipated, a natural corruption to be overcome, a peace to make with God, a relation to an eternal world to render sure or hopeful. The careless may smile at accounts of Conversion; but the serious mind which, in the wilderness of its thoughts, eagerly looks out for a guiding hand and a directive star, cannot be uninterested in them. Others are seen, in the early stages of their religious experience, in the same bewildered paths as ourselves, and the process of their deliverance points out that desired track which may lead us also into the light and peace for which we seek. To the rule of the Holy Scriptures such accounts of individual conversion are to be carefully subordinated; but they are often instructive and invaluable comments upon them, because they are the realizations of its moral theory.

Mr. Wesley has made the full disclosure, and it is the only true key to his theological system, and to his public conduct. His conversion is given in sufficient detail by Mr. Southey, though evidently above his comprehension. Impressed in his youth with a reli

gious concern, he resorted to books and to men for an answer to a question which, in spite of trifling, will at some time or other intrude itself upon every human heart-" What shall I do to be saved?" Happy if it were treated as seriously by all! He needed nothing, and yet was not happy. He had no quarrel with the world, and yet the world could not satisfy him. He stood in awe of God, convinced that he was living in a state of guilt and danger; he was afraid of death, because he had no lively hope of happiness beyond it. He redoubled his attention to the services of the Church-he read the Scriptures and the Fathers-he adopted the fasts and mortifications of former times-he resorted to every book of credit on practical and spiritual religion-in the eagerness and honesty of his enquiries, he walked many miles on foot to converse with a man reputed eminently religious-he abounded in works of zeal and charity-yet after all he was not at peace. Whilst others thought him righteous overmuch, he was daily discovering new defects in his services, and becoming better acquainted with his heart; he felt even an increased fear of death; and he was not delivered from the dominion of inward corruption, though his life was unblameable. He had early resorted to the Calvinistic divines, and though in some of their writings he might have found those very views of faith which afterwards administered to his deliverance and comfort, they were mixed up with a system, at which he revolted, and afterwards strenuously opposed, though on other and better grounds than he at that time assumed. This reyulsion of mind threw him more fully under the

influence of the writings of Taylor, Kempis, and Law, which, however excellent, afforded him little help in the point most concerning to him, his justification before God; for though admirably adapted to mature and perfect religion in the heart and life, they are greatly defective in those views of faith, and the atonement, which alone can give peace to a penitent and troubled spirit. The mystic writers were next resorted to, but these only increased his perplexities and entanglements." His sincere zeal led him to Georgia. On his passage he met with some pious Moravians, and, impressed by their simplicity and devotedness, he maintained an affectionate intercourse with them all the time he remained in America; and from their conversation, different views of himself, and of the means by which man is justified before his God, broke upon his mind. A mind so sincere in its search for truth, though long exposed to trial, could not be forsaken. The result of that over-ruling Providence which led him to make acquaintance with these excellent men, shall be given in his own words.

"It is now two years and almost four months since I left my native country, in order to teach the Georgian Indians the nature of Christianity. But what have I learnt myself meantime? Why,what I the least of all suspected,-that I, who went to America to convert others, was never myself converted to God. I am not mad, though I thus speak, but I speak the words of truth and soberness; if haply some of those who still dream may awake, and see that as I am, so are they. Are they read in philosophy? So was I. In ancient or modern

tongues? So was I also. Are they versed in the science of divinity? I too have studied it many years. Can they talk fluently upon spiritual things? The very same could I do. Are they plenteous in alms? Behold, I gave all my goods to feed the poor. Do they give of their labour as well as their substance? I have laboured more abundantly. Are they willing to suffer for their brethren? I have thrown up my friends, reputation, ease, country. I have put my life in my hand, wandering into strange lands; I have given my body to be devoured by the deep, parched up with heat, consumed by toil and weariness, or whatsoever God shall please to bring upon me. But does all this (be it more or less, it matters not,) make me acceptable to God? Does all I ever did, or can, know, say, give, do, or suffer, justify me in his sight? If the oracles of God are true, if we are still to abide by the Law and Testimony, all these things, though when ennobled by faith in Christ they are holy, and just, and good, yet without, are dung and dross. Thus then have I learned, in the ends of the earth, that my whole heart is altogether corrupt and abominable, and consequently my whole life:-that my own works, my own sufferings, my own righteousness, are so far from reconciling me to an offended God, so far from making an atonement for the least of those sins, which are more in number than the hairs of my head, that the most specious of them need an atonement themselves :-that having the sentence of death in my heart, and nothing in or of myself to plead, I have no hope but that of being justified freely through the redemption that is in Jesus,-but