laboured, and suffered, without fruit; but have been the instruments of gaining souls to, and of keeping them with Christ! And O that he may present them to the Father without blame, in perfect love! This is the real desire of THOMAS HANSON.

MR. THOMAS HANBY.

TO REV. JOHN WESLEY.

REV. SIR,-My father removed from Barnard Castle, in the county of Durham, to live in the city of Carlisle, where he was employed by a company of gentlemen to carry on a branch of the woollen manufactory. Here he married my mother, who was a person of some small property; by whom he had three children, myself being the youngest. I was born December 16, 1733.

After some years, the factory was given up, and my parents came to live at Barnard Castle again. My mother died when I was about seven years of age, and my father soon after. He was much addicted to drunkenness, which made him neglect the care of his family; by which means he reduced his helpless offspring to a variety of afflictions. I lived some time with an aunt, who had been a person of considerable fortune, but was reduced by the extravagance of my uncle, my father's brother. It is true, I was put to school for some years; but made no considerable progress in learning. Before I was twelve, I was put out to a trade; whereby a kind Providence enabled me to provide for myself such things as I stood in need of. The first serious impression that I remember, was when I was about six years of age. I was in a yard belonging to the house where we lived, in Barnard Castle, and looking up to hea. ven, I was struck with wonder, and called aloud, "God Almighty." But such horror seized me, as made me run

home, and shut the door with all speed. My mother reproved me, and said I had been doing some mischief; but I assured her I had not. She then insisted upon knowing the cause of my uncommon haste and of my shutting the door with such violence. I told her I was in the yard, and called aloud, "God Almighty," and I was afraid. What she thought I cannot say; but she said no more to me upon the subject. A few years after, I was greatly alarmed by my sister talking of the day of judgment, which I had not heard of before. But these serious impressions wore off, and I began to be

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Rough in my manners, and untamed my mind.

When I was about thirteen, hearing the bishop was coming to confirm the children in our town, I began to think some kind of reformation and preparation was necessary accordingly I applied to a relation, one John Robinson, a malster, who was a sincere man, and esteemed and beloved by all men. He taught me all he knew; viz., many questions and answers, with a great number of prayers; instructed me in the Church catechism, (for though I had learned it when at school, I had now entirely forgotten it,) and in short made me, I thought, a very good boy. The Sabbath came when the bishop was to confirm; and I having passed my examination with the minister, was introduced to the bishop. This was in the forenoon; and toward evening I went with some of my companions into the fields, and played at our usual games. But before I went to bed, horror of conscience seized me, and I thought I heard a voice say, "Thy confirmation is made void, for thou hast broke the Sabbath." What to do now I knew not. However, I began to make myself good, by reading and repeating many prayers. In this state I continued, till it pleased God, of his infinite mercy to send a poor man, one Joseph Cheesborough, a shoemaker, and a Methodist, from Leeds; who, having received the truth himself, was willing to impart it to others; not by preaching or exhortation, but by friendly discourse with his former acquaintance; for he was a Barnard Castle man. Joseph Garnet, one of our preachers, now with God, and a few others, first received the truth. They met

together in an upper chamber for fear of the mob. They read the Scriptures, and the books you had then published, sung hymns and prayed. I went one evening with a few of my ungodly companions, and as they were disposed to mock, I joined with them. However, I found something within that was far from justifying my conduct, and a secret persuasion that those despised, and persecuted people were able to show me the way of salvation. I went again the next night, (for they met every night,) and begged I might be permitted to come in among them. Accordingly I was admitted, and found myself sweetly drawn to seek an unknown God. From that time I missed no opportunity of assembling with them. My cousin Robinson went at the same time; but the minister sent for him, and laboured to convince him that he and the Method. ists were all in an error: and to prove it, he showed him several old puritanical books, which treated on the new birth, &c., and told him, "It is a false religion be cause it is an old religion!" My cousin, at that time, and for four years after, was an entire stranger to him. self and his need of a Saviour: the minister prevailed on him to leave the Methodists; and my great opinion of his piety made me, though contrary to my inclinations, leave them also. The minister told my cousin, provided he would form a religious society upon rational principles, he would sometimes come himself. He accordingly did, and in a little time we had a larger society than the Methodists, of formal professors who could play at cards, take their pleasures, and conform to the world in almost every thing. During this period, God still worked upon my tender mind, and I was fervent in prayer, reading, and every other exercise of religious duty. I was sometimes much tempted, but knew not that it was temptation. I also found remarkable comforts, but knew not what they meant. I thought I would pray at the same place again, which I did, and was greatly surprised not to meet with the same joy. In this state of ignorance I continued till our society dwindled away, and none remained but my cousin and me: I said to him one night, I fear we are wrong in leaving the Methodists; we can meet with none who can show us the way of salvation like them; come let us go and join them again. He had some.

objections, but my importunity prevailed with him. Aecordingly we went, and it being their class meeting we were admitted. In about twelve months he found peace, and ever after continued in the way, a very serious, steady, and circumspect walker, till the Lord took him to himself. About this time Mr. Whitford, the first Methodist preacher, came to Barnard Castle. He preached abroad to a very large, but unruly congregation. I was much affected, especially when he repeated those words, "O let not Christ's precious blood be shed in vain."-[Mr. Whitford left the Methodists some years after, and turned Calvinist, and I suppose would now be shocked to use the words which had such effect upon my mind, that I never could forget them.] After Mr. Whitford, we were favoured with Mr. Tucker, Mr. Turnough, Mr. John Fenwick, Mr. Rowel and others; who often preached to us while the blood ran down their faces, by the blows and pointed arrows thrown at them while they were preaching. Soon after, you, sir, paid us a visit, but were interrupted by the fire engine being played on the audience. I and our few friends did all we could to prevent it, but were overpowered by the multitude. God continued to draw me with strong desires, and I spent much time in praying in the fields, woods, and barns. Any place and every place was now a closet to my mourning soul, who longed for the day star to arise in my poor benighted heart. And it pleased infinite mercy, while I was praying in a dark place, (greatly terrified for fear I should see the devil,) to set my weary soul at liberty. The next day the Lord was pleased to withdraw the ecstacy of joy, though I had no condemnation, and I had well nigh given up my confidence, thinking it was nothing but a heated imagination. But the Lord met me again, while I was in the fields, my usual place of retirement, and from that time I was enabled to keep a weak hold of the precious Lord Jesus.

When I was about eighteen, I had a desire to see Newcastle-upon-Tyne: thinking, if I was among more experienced Christians, I might be taught the ways of the Lord more perfectly. I stayed a few months there, and boarded with our worthy friend, Mr. Robert Carr, whose tenderness for my youth, and truly Christian behaviour,

was of singular use to me for which I shall ever love and esteem him. By attending preaching, night and morning, and conversing with many mature Christians, my understanding was much enlightened; and I think I may say, through all-sufficient mercy, that I grew in the fear and knowledge of God. When I returned to Barnard Castle, I stayed some time there, and told my beloved friends all I could remember of the many excellent sermons I had heard in Newcastle, the nature of their discipline, and the Christian spirit of the society in that place.

Having profited so much by my Newcastle journey, I thought I would take one more journey to Leeds, and after that meant to settle at home for life. Accordingly I went, and here Providence was equally kind in casting my lot in Mr. Richard Watkinson's family; where they put themselves to some inconvenience in boarding and accommodating me with a very agreeable lodging. I have often had a thankful remembrance of their kindness to me, and I hope the Lord will reward them for it. My business now was that of stuff-making, and as I loved to labour hard, I was enabled to procure more than my necessities required. My method was, as formerly, to be much in the fields, praying and meditating. I also attended all the means of grace, and on the Sabbath I frequently took a walk with Mr. Watkinson into the country, where he preached. During this period, I can truly say I walked in the fear of the Lord and in the comforts of the Holy Ghost; and my delight was in the law of the Lord, and in his law I meditated day and night.

About this time a sudden impression was made upon my mind, that I ought to preach the Gospel. I concluded it was nothing but a temptation, and would not for a moment encourage such a thought. But it came again, and with it "a horror of great darkness fell upon me," like that men, tioned in Gen. xv, 12; and I was truly miserable. I remembered the wormwood and the gall that the preachers drank at Barnard Castle; and I said in my heart, I will not preach. But the terrors of the Lord made me afraid, and his fear took hold upon me. I was in great bitterness of spirit, because of this conviction. Sometimes I thought