and who they are that have reaped the benefits of their prevalent intercession: the Antinomians come not behind in these things.

The first difficult work that I found for faith and prayer, after my deliverance, was my little daughter, the only one then alive, being so ill that I had two doctors to attend her. I asked them if there were any hopes of her life; they told me no, she would die. I went to my garden, and laid it before God with uncommon energy, begging hard for submission to the divine will in case of a denial, and concluded with all the resignation I could muster. In two days after this she was perfectly recovered, and is now the mother of three children.

When I came first to London I became acquainted with a person who was then cook to Lord Barrington, in Manchester Square. This man had a little son, who in process of time fell sick of a lingering illness, which occasioned great grief of mind to his parents. He grew so ill at last as to be, as we commonly say, neither alive nor dead, and the faculty gave him over. One Sunday evening his father asked me and my friend Baker, with some others, to call and see the boy. We did, and found him with his head hanging over the bedstead, apparently dying; and indeed it was hard to perceive any symptons of life remaining. I found a confidence in God spring up in my heart, and a desire to exercise it in prayer, which I mentioned to the father, whọ

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replied, It is of no use, he will die.' However, we prayed for the life of the child, and then went home; but before I retired to bed I earnestly entreated the Lord again, by myself, to spare the child. I was determined to rise early, and pray again. I did so, and found very great energy in it. I begged of the Almighty to grant me this favour, that he would convince me, by the first passage of scripture I should cast my eyes upon, whether the poor little boy was alive or dead. And the first passage that struck me was this; "From heaven did the Lord behold the earth, to hear the groaning of the prisoner; to loose those that are appointed to death," Psal. cii. 19, 20. I immediately wrote a few lines to Mr. Baker, No. 226, Oxford Street, informing him of my prayers, of the energy I felt in them, of the request I had made, and put down the scripture that had encouraged me to hope, desiring him to go inmediately to Manchester Square, and inquire if the child was alive. This was about five o'clock in the morning; when I received his answer, saying, "The child is alive, and much better.' Not many days since I was speaking to Mr. Baker about it, He replied, I remember the circumstance well, and of my carrying the letter;' informing me at the same time that he is now married. His name is John Enovy. His father is bag-maker to the post office, and lived some time in RockinghamRow, Greenwich Road.

I was many years ago invited to preach at

Northampton; and during my stay there I went to preach at a little village a few miles out of the town. When I returned to Northampton it was near twelve o'clock. Being introduced into the dining room, I found both my host and hostess very sad, and weeping. I asked what was the cause of their grief. He replied, "Some years ago my wife was delivered of a son, the only child we have living. At his birth she received a hurt, and the doctor informed her that she would never bring forth another living child if she had a hundred. Since which time she has borne ten children, and every one born dead. She is now very ill, and near her down-lying again. And this is the cause of our grief.' I told them there was nothing too hard for the Lord. He made us, and he could mend us; and Jesus declares that all things are possible to him that believeth, Mark ix. 23. Being thus encouraged, we will lay the matter before the Lord;' to which the husband seemed inclined, but she objected, saying, 'O, 'tis of no use.' I replied, 'It is no sin to ask, if we ask with submission to the will of God.' We went to prayer, and I concluded thus-'O Lord, if we have asked amiss, withhold; but if thou art not displeased with our petitions, grant our request; not on the footing of our worth or worthiness, but in the name and for the sake of thy dear Son, who is worthy.' Soon after this I returned home, and in about six weeks the gentleman sent me a letter, saying, 'My wife was

brought to bed at such a time, and of a living child; which is still alive, and like to live; and, being a child of prayer, it is to remain nameless until you come and give it a name.' I went and named it Mary. The gentleman I thought seemed grateful to the Lord for his goodness, but his wife not so much so, which I felt not a little; and, if report be true, she hinted that, if she bore many more living children, it would lessen the property of her son, whom she was doatingly fond of. In process of time she proved pregnant again, and brought forth another dead child, and soon after her delivery she died herself. However, the husband and child are both living, and she is called the child of prayer unto this day. The man's name is Adams, an ironmonger, living near to Alhallows church in Northampton.

Another instance is as follows; Mr. Taylor, a gentleman's butler, who lived in Bedford Square, and for some time had attended my ministry, once asked me to go and see his wife, who was very ill, in deep soul trouble, and had been in heavy bondage for many years. She seemed, however, at last to be raised to hope, and soon after departed this life. But another affliction befel the poor man. His little daughter had a white swelling on her knee, and for this sad complaint he tried the faculty, and all the means that he could devise, but to no purpose. He was fretting and complaining sadly to me about the affliction of the child. I told him that Christ was the great Physician foretold by Je

remiah, viii. 22, and that in the days of his being manifest in the flesh he made it appear that he really was so; for all sorts of disorders, infirmities, and sicknesses, whether in soul or body, were healed by him: yea, as many as touched him were made perfectly whole, Matt. xiv. 36. And these favours were not confined to the days of his flesh; for, Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to day, and for ever, Heb. xiii. 8. I advised him therefore to try no other means, as all had failed, but that of prayer only. He requested me to pray for her. I did so: and whether the child be a chosen vessel or not God only knows, but she was continually brought to my mind, when I was in private prayer for, I believe, near two years. However, the man left his place of servitude, and went into a public house, and I have not seen him for many years. But about a fortnight ago he called on my friend Baker, in Oxford Street, who inquired after the child, and if her knee was well. He said the Lord had effectually healed her, and that the little creature used continually to be chattering, and telling folks that Mr. Huntington's prayer had cured her knee. He said moreover, that she was now married, and settled at St. Edmund's Bury, in Suffolk. The father now keeps the sign of the King's-head in Holywell row, near Finsbury Square.

I had a friend in town who was remarkably useful to me in building Providence chapel. He kept a cold bath, and used at times to attend my minis