my rebellious heart with a saving power. I have in my immediate view the spot where I sat, when, with a mind deeply impressed, and eyes streaming with tears, I implored the mercy of heaven. Nor can I say, whether I wept most tears of sorrow, because I found myself a lost sinner; or tears of joy, because I perceived the fulness and the freeness of that salvation, which I have long been, and am still, privileged to preach to others."

The Christian life was now commenced in spirit and practice, self-indulgence was resigned, and the pure principles of our holy religion acted on, and evidenced in every part of the subsequent conduct. No time, no effort was hereafter considered too great to be devoted to the glory of God, and the good of man.

CHAPTER II.

From Mr. Townsend's conversion, 1774, to his final settlement at Bermondsey, 1784.

THE humility which characterised the eminent subject of this memoir, even when he had become the object of universal esteem and love, is conspicuous in the circumstances which attended his progress towards the ministry. With the consciousness that he had neither education nor talents for this important office, his reading and his friendship were yet insensibly leading him to a public station. Theological studies he pursued with avidity, sermons were treasured up in his memory, and afterwards committed to paper. To strengthen his religious principles, he decided on becoming a member of the Tabernacle. The examination he passed before one of the ministers of that connexion, seems to have been remembered long after, and to have given him unusual tenderness on receiving candidates for admission into his own church. Regular meetings for prayer and conversation were attended, and at these some of the young men attempted to expound a passage of Scripture, that their knowledge might be increased, and a facility of speaking acquired. Mr. T.'s most intimate friends were Mr. Bryson, Mr. Richardson, and Mr. Green, with the latter a sincere attachment appears to have been formed.

The Rev. George T., élder brother to Mr. T. who had been educated at St. Paul's school, having entered the ministry under the patronage of the Countess of Huntingdon, had given an exhortation which appears strongly to have impressed the mind of the subject of this memoir; who, delighted with the talents and piety of his brother, was equally charmed with the respect and attachment he appears to have elicited from his hearers.

On Mr. George Townsend's leaving London for Trevecca, accompanied by the friends abovenamed, Mr. T. formed a strong friendship with Mr. Beck, to whom he acknowledged himself deeply indebted as his counsellor and guide; indeed it is evident that his persevering advice first overcame the timid reluctance of Mr. T. to engage in public services. The latter frequently accompanied his friend to the various places round London, where he was accustomed to preach. On one of these occasions, Mr. B. being indisposed declined the afternoon service, and requested the subject of this memoir to take his place. After enduring much distress and anxiety of mind, and fearing to disappoint the people, he consented, and gave an exhortation, urging the necessity of religion to promote the happiness of man, whether in this world or the next. Referring to this circumstance in his journal, Mr. T. remarks, " I had no wish to intrude into the ministry: had I consulted my own family, I should probably have been discouraged, as they had no idea I possessed

talents for so important a station. Providence effected it in a gradual and silent manner, most congenial to my own feelings and habits. I continued my visits to Mitcham, praying and occasionally exhorting in the little chapel, when owing to a sudden indisposition Mr. B. insisted on my preaching. In the most candid manner I expressed dislike, urging my insufficiency and unpreparedness, which would increase my diffidence

and fear.

It seemed impossible to enter the pulpit before I had obtained a more full and accurate acquaintance with divinity, and till I had studied at some college. My friend now endeavoured to convince me, that the various exhortations I had given, had afforded considerable satisfaction, and that whatever was my ultimate destination, I ought to exercise my "talent" till some arrangement could be made, as proofs had already been given of my acceptance and usefulness. The conversation was closed by an assurance, that as illness prevented his preaching, I must be responsible for the disappointment of the people. This threw my mind into a state of much perplexity and agitation, its reasonings and fears were beyond any thing I can describe; a sense of duty decided me to overcome my reluctance, and as some hours intervened, I prepared the skeleton of a sermon; selecting that easy and familiar text, from Luke xii. 32-" Fear not, little flock," &c.

My distress of mind on riding to Mitcham was so great, that I thought I must have returned; on

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my arrival, anxious to find an apology to the manager of the chapel for my apparent intrusion, I said,—It is a week-night, and an emergency. My fear and trembling were great, but I looked to God for strength and assistance, and found them; yet such was my terror that the pulpit shook beneath me. I had made rather a long plan, and if ever I cried to the Lord for help, it was at this time. When I had read the text, my fear so far subsided that I was enabled to forget every thing but my subject, and I found tolerable ease of expression. After the lapse of an hour, finding I had not proceeded more than half through my subject, I left off abruptly. On entering the vestry, many individuals came forward to express approbation and pleasure. Among the number were a lady and gentleman, the sight of whom had increased my distress, as I knew they were accustomed to hear Mr. Romaine, and Mr. Foster. The lady, who on first seeing me had objected to my youth, said, this young man would be acceptable for one Sabbath at Kingston. The gentleman, Mr. Whitver, of the Ordnance Office, now pressed my consent to this; but I refused, on which he replied, God has given you talents, and you must use them. I returned home with very different feelings. "The Lord, as it were, turned my captivity, and I was like them that dream. It was a night long to be remembered. To this hour, when I look back to it, and review all the circumstances of the case, my reluctance to engage, and my fear and agitation, I think it was obvious to the