to obtain true peace, by attention to a few of the forms of religion.

It is abundantly evident that his Pharisaism was now growing upon him, and that the scenes of irreligion and vice to which he was exposed, had the effect of making him doubly zealous in his efforts to be virtuous. The contrast presented to his mind between the scenes he had left and those he now witnessed, naturally enough excited a consciousness of greater purity, both of principle and practice; and this in the sight of a holy God, and in an unrenewed heart, produced a self-justifying spirit. This being driven on to its just results, brought him into that state of mental bondage, which we shall soon have occasion to describe. His selfrighteousness was to be put to the test, its falseness to be exposed, and his soul driven from the refuge of lies, by the sharp scourge of worldly troubles, and the flaming sword of divine justice. It is not unimportant to note this fact in the experience of our friend. It will, perhaps, help us to explain the skill that he subsequently acquired, in treating the case of self-righteous characters, and in liberating oppressed and labouring consciences from thraldom to the righteousness of the law.

It is a fact, which I have no doubt others have noted as well as myself, that many of those ministers who have stood foremost as the preachers of the doctrines of grace, and been pre-eminent in their zeal against a self-righteous spirit, have been persons who were previously under its influence; and, perhaps, had long been held in bondage by its vain, though sincere, attempts to obtain peace. Perhaps even those who have been inclined, I would not say to Antinomianism, but to that way of stating and preaching the doctrines of grace, which may be described as highly Calvinistic, may have derived that strong tendency to the doctrinal strain of preaching, from their own painful experience of the evils of the opposite theory.

It is often the case, too, that release from a state of subjection to Pharisaism is effected at once. The light of grace, when it comes to such characters, generally comes in a full blaze, as with the lightning's flash, and they then become the subjects of sudden conversion. This is another source of the strong bias they receive to exalt the doctrines of grace; and although the cause is decidedly of a divine character, its mode of operation, the tendency it produces, and all the strong characteristics it subsequently displays, are perfectly rational, and to be explained in strict

accordance with the soundest principles of mental philosophy. Many striking illustrations in the Annals of Evangelical Biography, will no doubt occur to the recollection of intelligent readers.

Conversions of this kind, which become proportionably rare as a religious education advances, and a gospel ministry becomes regular, generally produce Christians of a more lively, imposing, and chivalrous character, than that system of Christian instruction which commences with sound views of gospel truth, and which has no material discoveries to unfold when grace may begin to operate efficiently in the soul. In the one case, there is all the stimulus of novelty, and of novelty in combination with the most momentous and stirring discoveries in the other, there can be no charm or surprise of discovery; it is only the resuscitation, or revival of truths, which had long been familiarized to the mind; which had remained dormant in the understanding, but which now, for the first time, begin to operate in the conscience, and on the affections. There are many points of interesting contrast in the experience and characters of the two classes of Christians, which I need not name; they will readily occur to the minds of persons who have thought upon the philosophy of experimental religion, and who are interested in such subjects. The two classes are finely balanced. God has set them both in his church; the judicious, matured and milder graces of the one, over against the more brilliant and energetic qualities of the other. So is it in all natural productions. Nowhere do we see uniformity; the physical constitution is like the mental; unity is every where, but uniformity no where. Strength is a widely different quality from weight: and so in minds, enthusiasm is one kind of power; a calm and slow judgment is a power of quite another kind. They accomplish different, perhaps equally important results.

Not that by such a reference to the phenomena of conversion, we would be supposed to ascribe its effect, in either case, to a merely natural cause. The results in both the different classes of conversions can be properly assigned to none but a supernatural and divine source. No philosophy short of that which embraces the doctrine of the divine spirit, can satisfactorily' account for the production of the effect of regeneration in either case: but this is a widely different question from that of the laws by which the divine influence in conversion, and in the phenomena attending conversion, may be said to operate. In this latter case, we

may be allowed to show that the divine agency works upon our minds according to the laws already observable in our mental economy.

When emancipated from any particular opinion, or impression, the spirit is liable to feel a sort of resentment at the cause by which it was bound or deceived; and this impels it with more determination and energy in an opposite direction. It aims to show and embody to itself its antipathy, and out of a kind of instinctive abhorence, naturally felt for that which has injured us, we depart to the greatest possible distance, and determine to render our opposition as decisive and clear as possible; just as the side that has been once wounded will be the point most anxiously guarded; and as the sight of the rock on which the mariner has formerly split, will inspire an intenser caution whenever the place is again approached. The new opinion, or new bias, or new impression, which has superseded an old one, will also, by a law of association, that of contrast as well as that of memory, naturally awaken the thought of the former bias, and all the evils, be they many or few, which the mind may now connect with its former state. When these recur they will be accompanied with feelings of disgust and repugnance, proportioned to the satisfaction the mind may feel in its new acquirements, and regulated by the degree of importance attached to the exploded error and the acquired truth. These are laws which obtain in the whole economy of mind, and, therefore, I apprehend, are as strictly applicable to the case I have attempted to explain, as to any of the more common and less momentous changes to which human spirits are subject.

But to return to our narrative. After the death of his aunt Merchant, John Cooke continued to board six months longer with his uncle, destitute of all employment; for no attempt whatever appears to have been made by his professed guardian, to find him any sort of occupation. His mental history, however, through all this gloomy and discouraging period, is interesting, since it was preparatory to that work of the Lord which was soon to be effected. His uneasy and discouraging circumstances, his uncle's indifference, and the total disappointment of all his expectations in business, produced a dejection and gloom which increased daily till his existence became irksome. He longed to be free from his uncle, and to escape from the wretched ennui of idleness, but no door of escape opened to him; no possibility of procuring

a suitable employment appeared within his reach, and his mind turned upon itself in anxiety, vexation, and fear. He began to think of death. It seemed perpetually present to his imagination. He felt forsaken and without a friend in an unfriendly world. All men seemed his foes. Nothing prospered, and he felt that he lacked the blessing of God. This naturally introduced the thought of sin against his maker. He began to fear that he had made the most High his enemy; but his views were all obscure and perplexed. For several weeks he dreaded the approach of night; and the idea of bed or sleep proved a terror to him, for his dreams were full of vengeance, and became a sort of mental realization of his waking fears. His companions by day, were guilt and gloom; and by night, death, and judgment, and hell seemed waiting to complete the bitterness and anguish of his sen

sations.

This singular method did God take to bring home the thought and the fear of death: it was constantly present to his mind. Conscience rose up to accuse him for his past life, and to bring all his sins in review. So dreadful were his dreams and sensations of wrath in his sleep, that he resolved for some time not to enter his bed. He says, "before I heard any Gospel sermon, many circumstances prepared for it. I was terrified with the most alarming dreams, for near three weeks, until I feared my bed as hell. I dreamed but one thing every night, namely, as soon as my senses were locked up by sleep, I thought I felt the devil with two hands on my neck, and his knees on my breast; and when I awoke from this hell upon earth, so strong was it upon my imagination, that I could but cry out with all my strength, for some time, Murder! Murder!-This method God took with Job to hide pride and self-sufficiency from him. This immediately set me to pray. Sometimes I read nearly all the Psalms through before I entered my bed, and thus became a Pharisee of the strictest sect. But this not answering the end, he suffered me not to rest here, but soon sent a messenger more alarming, with "heavy tidings" to me, even to me!

In this state of mind he used to roam from one end of London to the other. But all this time his sense of his spiritual wants was increasing. He had a desire to be. religious, and he wished to engage himself with pious people. But he knew none such. In this vague, dark, and restless state of mind, he one day entered, without serious purpose, a place of worship. The minister was preaching upon some

alarming subject-the wrath of God against sin, and the terrors of a future judgment, hell, and everlasting damnation. The subject fearfully responded to the state of his mind-" the iron entered into his soul"—and though strange doctrine, strange preaching, and alarming sounds, his conscience said " Amen" to each fearful sentence; and, at the close of the whole, he felt ready to confess, "I am the man."

For a time he was agitated with deep convictions and strong emotions. But it is not in the nature of that which is violent to be lasting. Time greatly modified his feelings and calmed his fears. In fact, for a short period, his convictions wore off, and it seemed likely that they would produce no permanent effect. But at this critical juncture some acquaintance led him to a place, which he then thought little better than a madhousethe Tabernacle in Moorfields. This was the momentous crisis which brought his mind to a stand, and fixed the seal upon his future character. The minister, who was preaching on that occasion, was Mr. Kinsman of Plymouth. A man whose labours at that period were highly acceptable and useful in the metropolis. The sound of Gospel tidings was quite new. His ears tingled at the strange intelligence, but it was "glad tidings,"-it suited his case in all its particulars, and it was proved to be true by the preacher from the Bible, and to his heart, by the Holy Spirit. His joy was great; he embraced the message, and felt alive from the dead. All things had been preparing him to accept the tidings. Old things had been passing away-old confidences-old habitspharisaical and worldly prospects had been feeding-and now all things became new. It was a mysterious, but divine hand, which led him, by these short and rapid strides, to the knowledge of the Gospel. Nor was it less mysterious that the human agent, which invited and led him to the house of prayer, where he first found the Saviour, should have proved, like most of his other early connexions, a false friend. For this man first gained a place in his regard, and then borrowed money of him which he never repaid. There is still remaining among Mr. C.'s papers, a note of hand for money lent to this individual, upon which is written in his own laconic, but expressive way, "This man first led me to the Tabernacle, and then cheated me of my money."

But he had found at the Tabernacle "the pearl of great price;" and from this date commenced his strong desire to publish the grace of the Gospel to others. He now greatly desired to find employment under some good master,