The Life And Ministry Of John Crowley

Gospel Standard 1883:

A Record Of The Revelation Of The Grace Of God To John Crowley, Minister Of The Gospel, Fairford

Having  had my mind many times inclined to try and write a brief account of my unprofitable life, and the desire having again and again declined, when it was brought to my mind forcibly yesterday, I said within myself, “By the help of God, I will begin.” As I have no diary, I am dependent upon the blessed Remembrancer to help me.

I was born in the town of Fairford, on April 8th, 1812. My parents were poor, God-fearing people. I was the youngest of five children. Only two lived to grow up; and I had a weak body and nervous constitution from my birth. My father brought up my brother and myself very strictly, yet tenderly. He took us to his place of worship on Sabbath days, and would be up early in the morning to read his Bible and go to prayer before his work. On Sabbath days he would have prayer morning, noon, and night; and at times, though young, I felt averse to it.

At 12 years of age I was apprenticed by charity to the boot and shoe trade, and served seven years. In that period I left the course of life in which my father by word and practice had brought me up; and I often forgot it altogether. Yet there were at times touches of conviction for my wrong doings. I was never permitted to make slighting remarks upon professing people, nor did I swear in common discourse; but I did so in a dreadful manner when in a passion.

In the 22nd year of my life I worked at Farringdon, in Berkshire. Being in want of employment, I began to think of going to London; but before the time appointed for my journey, a person came to my lodging to engage me for work that I knew would suit me. As this would bring me nearer to my old companions, I rather gladly went with him; and promised myself a good deal of pleasure through the summer, principally on Sundays. The first Sabbath I started to see a friend who had been a fellow-apprentice with me. In the afternoon we went to a public house together; and while sitting there, I felt such a conviction in my breast that I was breaking the Sabbath that my pleasure-taking was turned into unhappiness and trouble. I told my companion I wanted to go to Fairford; and he began to accompany me on the way. But my trouble stuck by me; and I was obliged to part with him, and went on by myself on purpose to go to chapel. The service was nearly half over when I arrived. However, I went in with such a sensation of mind I had never had before, and with the intention to mend my ways and be good.

I continued going to and fro to the chapel on Sundays (about four miles); but did not receive any comfort for my sin-bitten soul. I was convinced there was power in religion, and I wanted to feel it. One Monday evening a stranger came to preach, and I went to hear him. In his sermon he spoke of the safety of God’s people, and said that the babe was as safe as the old Christian. Now I felt a little hope spring up in my mind that I was safe. I went homo praying and hoping to be one of the people of God. When I had gone about three miles on the road, a sweet light shone into my soul, which caused me to stand still with my eyes up to heaven and my spirit desiring to praise the Lord. Thus I went on my way greatly comforted.

This frame of mind did not leave me wholly till Wednesday evening, when I was alone in the fields. There I felt the wretched sins of my nature work powerfully, and captivate my whole man, and fix my affections on carnal things. The promising crop was all blighted; and I felt myself a greater sinner and more guilty than ever. I said within myself that what I had felt was only a flash of nature. Still my mind was drawn to read the Bible and other good books, and to hear the Word, and pray to God, because of my sinful state. About this time a powerful temptation beset me, that it was impossible for the virgin Mary to conceive and bring forth a Son, as the Scriptures declare. This caused much exercise of mind, and terribly shook my little faith. At length I was led to see that reason could never comprehend the things of God; that it was faith alone that could credit them; and the snare was broken.

In the following summer, one week evening, I went to Farringdon to hear Mr. Shorter. He preached with great liberty and power in a bakehouse, which was afterwards made into a chapel. The Word entered into the sighs and desires I had felt on the road going there; and as I sat on the seat, tears ran down my cheeks from its sweet effects. I went home quite revived and comforted. The following month he preached there again; and I went, but was disappointed to hear nothing.

After a time one of the friends at Fairford spoke to me about joining them in church fellowship. I replied I wanted to be better satisfied about my religion; so it passed away until he spoke to me again. I told my father that I could not sit down at the Lord’s Supper without being baptized; for I was led to see the ordinance of baptism by Matt. 28:19, 20. It was an Open Communion church. But before the time set for the baptizing came, I felt a great change in my mind through the wretchedness of my sinful nature. I felt myself a base thing; and for inward shame I scarcely knew how to keep on going to chapel. When the time arrived, I was full of guilt and shame. The cause and all I felt I told out to the Lord, but not a word to any one else. When going down into the water, I was feeling the most unworthy creature that could be found; but suddenly a hope sprang up in my soul that my worthiness was in the Lord Jesus Christ. This pacified my mind for some time.

But as months rolled on I sank into a horrible pit through sin. I was afraid to go to sleep at night, lest I should never wake again, crying in my soul to the Lord. A’guilty conscience who can bear? O the secret places I used to creep into, and confessing sin before God, and acknowledge I deserved to be sent to hell! I tried all I could to pacify an offended God by repentance and prayers for mercy; and sometimes felt a little ease, hoping I had succeeded in some measure. But alas!

“Law and terrors do but harden

All the time they work alone.”

At length one clay, wheii upstairs trying to pray, this portion of the Word testified against mo: “if we sin wilfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries.” (Heb. 10:26.) Conscience said, “I am the man.” It seemed as if all hope were giving way, and despair setting in. Then these words came as I was on my knees: “0 spare me that I may recover strength before I go hence and be no more!” They were very suitable to my condition; and the sweetness and power that attended them raised my desponding spirits at that time. I could not name my trouble to any creature living. After some years had passed over, I was led to see that an adversary was one who said and did things against another with enmity in his heart. But the poor sinner who was mourning for his sins, and seeking forgiveness, and would, if possible, make any amends for his offences (though he is mistaken in thinking it is in his power), this person could not be an adversary. In this way my soul was quite delivered from the powerful hold that text had taken upon me, and freed from its depression.

In May, 1836, the Lord saw fit to alter the bounds of our habitation. I went with my wife to Cricklade, where we remained nearly seven years. It was a trying time for me, labouring to raise a little business; and it gave me plenty of work for prayer. My fears were much higher than my faith. I attended a little chapel there and Blunsdon Hill alternately, to hear Mr. Shorter, whose ministry I loved. Trials and sorrows awaited me. I was tempted to form an acquaintance with a respectable tradesman in the town, thinking he might recommend me to some good houses for work. He was a worldly man; and it did me no good. But the Lord saw fit to lay upon me a most painful affliction, in which I felt inwardly reproved; and in my pain was brought to cry forcibly for mercy in these words: “O Lord, if thou canst, with any honour to thyself, save such a wretch as I, do magnify thy grace in me; and bring me out of this affliction that I may praise thee.” This affliction was the means of breaking the snare.

Family and temporal trials increased; also temptations of a fearful nature, which made me feel full of sin and guilt. And sure I am, if I had been left to have followed the devices of my heart, I could never have raised my guilty head among those that knew me. One Sunday morning, despairing at the thought of going to hear the Word preached, suddenly a Who can tell? sprang up in my mind. By this I ventured to go; and on my way wept bitterly on account of my sins. I was condemned by my conscience, and had little hope of obtaining mercy, and none of making any permanent amendment; therefore I had left off making any vows and promises to God or myself. The sentence of death was felt within me; and all my comeliness was turned to corruption.

I do not remember any help under the Word that morning; but on the Tuesday following, when in the depths of trouble, a sweet softness commenced in my soul, and a sense of mercy soon filled my heart, so that I wanted to give vent to my feelings. I went upstairs; and my soul was filled with good till it ran over, trying to praise the Lord for his great mercy to me, the vilest of sinners. And before I was aware, these words burst out: ” O Lord, send me forth to tell of thy goodness to poor sinners.” To the best of my knowledge, this was the first impulse I ever felt about the ministry.

When my feelings had somewhat abated, it was suggested to my mind that the Lord did not send out two brothers to the work of the ministry. But on looking into the Testament, I saw there were Peter and Andrew his brother, also James and John his brother. Soon after, an inward voice asked me, “What do you know about a law-work?” I answered, “Nothing.” Then it said, “It is necessary that every man who speaks in the Name of the Lord should understand a law-work, and be able to describe it.” I answered, “O Lord, I am a child, and cannot speak.” These things were pondered over in my heart; I never mentioned them to any creature.

But I soon found that the trials of the way swallowed up all these thoughts. I sank gradually into a horrible pit of self-pity, and my carnal affections would wander very far from God; so that I could enjoy neither the world nor religion. The things my soul refused to taste were as my sorrowful meat. I could not understand myself at all. Sometimes I thought I am a great hypocrite; at other times desires sprang up with the word: “Let your conversation be as becometh the gospel of Christ.” I often cried out with David, “O Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. For thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore.” (Ps. 38:1-3.) I was afraid of being hardened against reproof, and feared the Spirit of the Lord was departing from me; and was sometimes stirred up to feel pity for Saul, which would make me tremble.

Yet now and then a brokenness of spirit and contrition came over me. I remember being sweetly melted in reading a letter of Mr. W. Gadsby’s in the “Gospel Standard.” The sweet dew kept dropping as I read it, till my soul was filled with love to the Lord and to the dear man.

At length my misery increased because of trouble; and I envied the dogs and cows that were feeding opposite my house. At last I said in my heart that it would have been better if God had made man to less trouble in this life, even if he had damned him hereafter. Thus I charged God foolishly; but not without some trembling.

Very soon after this the Lord sent a trying affliction on my body. It was on a Saturday morning. I felt a pain in my left side, which increased fast. I arose from my seat to see if that would ease me. But it still increased, and I was obliged to leave my work. I told my wife I must go to bed; but I could not stay there, the pain was so intense. Now I felt the anger of God set in upon me, and I was afraid of his judgments. I cried out to my wife, “O Martha, I am afraid God is about to cut me off in the midst of this great pain; and I have not a moment to think what will become of me;” for I felt full of confusion. The doctor was sent for; and the means used eased me a little. On Monday afternoon I tried to get up, but was taken worse. This time I was brought down very low, and my life began to be despaired of. During the affliction I felt sharp reproofs and chastisements for sin, and a sense of the holiness of God deepening in my soul; and that nothing short of holy obedience could satisfy the demands of his holy law. I3y the mercy of God I slowly increased in strength. On the Monday following my brother came from Swindon. I wished him to pray. He did so; and I felt a little melting of heart. He stayed the week, to do some work for me. On the Tuesday I got up, feeling very weak.

That day a thought struck my mind to bow my knees by the bedside and try to pray. When on my knees, I felt an unseen hand leading my mind upwards, and also back before man was created. The Eternal Three were present to the eyes of my mind, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The Father had chosen a people out of the fallen race of mankind, and given them to his dear Son. And the Son entered into covenant to redeem them from the fall, and save them from the wrath to come, according to the Scriptures. I believed that the Virgin Mary was appointed to conceive by the Holy Ghost, and bring forth a Son; and his name should be called Jesus, for he should “save his people from their sins.” And that all those whom he redeemed by the shedding of his precious blood, would in due time be called by the Holy Spirit. Then my mind was led to the spot where a more particular conviction of sin entered my breast than I ever knew before; and it has been a marvellous thing, that has never been quite extinguished. With this my backslidings in heart, lip, and life appeared in view. Also the deep repentings and anguish of spirit I had felt on account of sin. Then the little helps by the way, and the afflictions of body and mind, as a means of bringing me to the spot I found myself in; and my soul broke forth in thanksgivings to God for my present affliction and all the way he had led me. I was melted into self-abasement and abhorrence of sin and self; my soul repented in dust and ashes. From this my mind was led upwards. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost were again presented before me as agreeing in perfect harmony on behalf of poor, wretched sinners. And as I was viewing and admiring his love, a glimpse of light, like a ray of glory, shone into my soul, such as man could not live ii. My soul caught the fire, and broke forth in adoration and praise. At the same time I was filled with solemn awe and reverence to the Three- One God for his wonderful mercy to one so vile. I believed my sins were pardoned; and I felt so tender, as if I should no more be so liable to sin as before. But alas! I have lived to prove my sinful nature is sinful still.

I arose from my knees, and stood with tears running down my cheeks, blessing and praising God, I know not how long. The sweet savour abode upon my spirit more or less for a month. Hymn 845 was very sweet to me:

“My soul, with joy attend,

While Jesus silence breaks,” &c.

These things I strove to keep to myself for many years from the impression that I should not be believed, and lest also I should be left to Rive them the lie; but by wonderful mercy, it has not been so. Yet how many times it has been suggested to my mind that religion is nothing but a bubble; and my infidel heart has fallen in with it.

Another trial followed quickly. One day two respectable-looking men, with a fine horse and gig, stopped at my door. One was dressed like a Quaker. He came in, addressed me as a friend, and said he was appointing agents for a firm, and had been recommended to me; and that according to the general course of business the appointment would bring in about 8s. a week profit. I was very suspicious of the truth of his statement; yet at length by his art and craft lie overcame me. It proved in the end to be over 3 loss to me; and being poor, and wanting tho money in many ways, I became so depressed I could not work. It was presented to my mind that one trial on the back of another would kill me outright.

But one morning, as I was dressing, I felt an impression that I must pray. I went downstairs, and bent my knees before the Lord, begging him to take away the depression, and enable me to work. I felt present relief. Then I begged him to show me whether my life was for a short period. And these words were brought to my mind: “Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth?” I said, “Lord, it is enough. I see that not tribulation nor anything else can take away life until that time is come.” I arose at once from my knees, and went to work with fresh vigour.

Some trying things I must pass over. I could not see how I was to continue at Cricklade, and pay my way. But in the order of providence the time came for us to leave, and return to Lechlade. Here I worked for my father-in-law as journeyman about 17 years. This town I found to be a very barren place. I often walked alone to Alvescot to hear the Word preached by Mr. Shorter. But he was soon after removed to London. On one occasion he came down to preach again at Alvescot. His text was, “No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.” (1 Jn. 4:12.) As he spoke of the Word of the Lord to Moses, and showed that no man could see the glory of God in this life and live, yet some had a glimpse of it, and it dropped into their hearts; and of the effects of solemnity and adoration it produced in the soul; word by word described my experience two years previously, and confirmed my religion to be of God. My heart leaped within me for joy, like the babe in Elizabeth’s womb, when she heard the salutation of Mary. These things were pondered over in my heart.

I used to wander about in a very solitary condition. One evening my mind was suddenly inclined to go and see some one who I hoped was a good man, and I found a friend from a neighbouring village with him. At that time my mind was exercised about the ministry. We entered into conversation upon the trials of the way, and my friends began to talk about meeting together for prayer, and one said he believed the Lord directed me there that evening. Their proposal was at length brought to pass. These words one day were brought to my mind: “What ye hear in the ear, that preach ye upon the housetops.” (Matt. 10:27.) But with my being poor and having weak nerves and feeling altogether insufficient for that work, I could not see that it was the least probable that I should preach. Then other passages have dropped into my mind, such as, “God is able even of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham;” “With God all things are possible;” so that at times it was like a fire in my bones, and I could scarcely help standing at my door and attempting to preach the gospel. On the other hand, having to grapple with temporal difficulties, crosses without, and troubles at home, my temper would get soured; and at these times great darkness and guilt attended my spirit, so that I had no mind for preaching. And truly glad was I not to have begun; for I could not see how it could have been possible for me ever to have continued in so bad a frame of mind.

About ten years after I had made a profession, these words dropped into my heart, and were opened sweetly to my understanding: “For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Sou in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh; that the righteousness of the law might bo fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.” (Rom. 8:3, 4.) I was led back to the time when I was filled with terrors on account of my backslidings in heart, lip, and life; and I saw that through the strength of sin the law is weak, not able to save the soul in whole or in part; for to convince and to condemn is all the law can do; but therefore God sent his own Son. And I felt the willing Son obeyed to do all for poor, vile sinners, which neither the law nor themselves could do; causing the soul, through the power of divine grace, to delight in the law of God after the inward man. Tims the law is fulfilled in the heart.

As my two elder boys grew old enough for work, I was anxious to find sufficient business that I might teach them my trade of boot-making. A farmer in a neighbouring village told me the boot-maker there was dying, and he should like me to take his place. When the man was dead and buried, the farmer sent for me; and another friend promised to help me if I obtained the business. I hoped it might prove an opening in providence; but here I met with a sharp disappointment. It was in the depth of winter. The farmer said he would speak to the owner of the house on iny behalf, and accompanied me to see him. But all the answer I obtained was this: “I cannot let you the house; for I hear you have a large family. It will not do for me to bring a large family into the village; I must not offend the higher powers. I cannot tell what I may come to.” He appeared to be a poor old man. The farmer said, “Are you afraid of the rent? If so, I will be answerable for it.” “O no,” was the reply; “he does not look like a man of that sort.” But he would not let me have the house. I took tea with the farmer, and started home, much cast down. It was night and dreary, and I had five miles or more to walk on rough roads. The wheels of carts had cut in deep, and I was soon in one trench, then in another; and my spirits were so low I roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart. Being rejected and despised on account of my large family, I felt much depressed for a long season. But since those days I have been led to see a providence wrapped up in it, the Lord having something better in reserve for me; so that those trendies have been filled up and made plain.

While passing through those days of trial, my heart, at times, was full of sorrow and sore, inward temptations to blaspheme the Most High. It seemed as though I were really doing so inwardly. At this I trembled, being afraid of his judgments. Both my wife and myself having but weak tabernacles, self-pity would rise, and set false representations of God before my mind; that ho dealt hardly with me, and laid on me a heavier burden than I was able to bear. I thought I would not use such treatment towards either man or beast; forgetting that I had procured all these things to myself, and that it was of the Lord’s mercies that I was not consumed, because his compassions fail not. Yet how many times did my soul confess to God that I deserved to be cut off and sent to hell. And again hardness, self-righteousness, self-pity, and the dreadful infidelity of my heart would work; and awful carnal reasonings would arise. To hear anyone talk about the mercies of God to them would aggravate my woe. Then my soul would be humbled within me, and made to feel as a little child. The Lord inclined our friends to help me from the Poor Fund in times of affliction or extra needy times; for which I desire ever to be thankful both to them and the God of all our mercies.

I come now to name another trial and happy deliverance. My eldest boy was nearly 16 years of age, and my second over 14. I could see nothing whereby they would be able to get their bread. My mind became much exercised about leaving my seat of work and trying to commence a little business, that I might teach them my trade. This appeared to be a matter of great importance, seeing I had eight children to provide for. I felt if I knew my plan to be of the Lord I would begin without a shilling; but this was the trial. After much exercise and attempting to pray, with my mind tempest-tossrd, not knowing what to do, sometimes a thought would arise, “Perhaps, the Lord is in it.” Then again my fears would overwhelm me. At length I came to this decision, that if there was an opportunity to speak to my father in law without moving out of my place, I would give him notice to leave. No opportunity offered; and my burden became intolerable. I went home, forgot to eat my bread, passed through the house up to the attic, and fell down upon some straw, and cried out, “O Lord, not my will, but thine be done.” I tried to go on praying about my burden; but my mind was taken from it and raised higher with the prospect of the blessings of heaven. O this precious, timely deliverance! It cannot be forgotten. I was quite enabled to leave my case in his blessed hands. I saw plainly my place was to keep where I was; and much comfort flowed into my mind.

About two mouths after, a letter came from a young man who used to live at L , saying that Mr. W., of L , was inquiring for a boy to look after a horse, drive a horse and trap, and make himself generally useful; and ho had named my boy to him, and asked me to write if the boy was in want of a place. I did so, and a day was fixed for us to go and see him. It was a fourteen miles’ walk; however, I left my son for a month on trial. At the end of the month I went again, and agreed for one year. At the end of the year his master sent him home for two or three days, and in the mean time wrote mo a letter to offer to take him as an apprentice till he was 21 years of age. He engaged to teach him the business, which was drapery and grocery, and do the same for him as his own father had had to pay 60 for; but he would give no salary the first year. This at first sight disappointed me; but the good providence of God shone forth on behalf of the boy, and a sweet impression rose up in my mind that the Lord would help us through. Thus I agreed to the proposal. My sou remained eight years in the family; and many times during his apprenticeship my soul has run over with good under a felt sense of the merciful providence of God towards him and me also; for it proved most satisfactory.

My second son desired a place in a bakehouse, and we tried hard to get one, but no door opened. Poor dear boy! My heart melts and my eyes fill with tears as I think how he used to go out in the town to try to earn a penny to carry home to his mother. We thought he would have to go to stone-breaking. At length a farmer in the parish wanted a boy at 4s. a week, to find his own food and pay 6d. a week to the carter for his lodging. An answer was requested on Monday morning, before the farmer went to market. Neither my wife nor myself could see this was the way. It was Michaelmas, and a winter before us; and we were pinched up, and we knew not what to do. I came home from my work at nine o’clock on the Saturday night, and the children were gone to bed. My wife and myself were full of trouble, and bowed our knees and our souls before God to bey him to appear for the boy, and instruct; us what to do, as we were at our wits’ end. In about five minutes after we had risen from our knees, a grocer from the town came to the house, and asked for the boy. He said he would give him Is. 1s. 6d a week, and find him his food on week-days, and he was to be at home on Sundays. O the preciousness of this quick answer to prayer! My eyes fill with tears as I write. The good providence of God was so plainly seen, the agreement was entered into at once.

After serving a year, the way opened for him to go to a grocer at Farringdon. When he had been there about a year and a half, his master offered to take him as an apprentice without any premium, and to continue his present salary till his time would be out at 21 years of age. This I felt to be a very kind providence of God. After serving his time he went to Bristol, and was there for three years and a half in one firm. Then he went abroad, where he is now in business, doing very well. In those day there were seasons of hard wrestling at the throne of grace; yet at times they were blessed days, and every favor was received with gratitude.

In July, 1854, I was taken ill. I was enabled to fall quietly into the hands of the Lord, and had this comfortable persuasion, that he would not let me lose one penny by it. The doctor was sent for, and was very kind. My pains were acute; but my mind was passive. The Lord blessed the means, and in a few days my complaint was turned. The Lord graciously brought me through, and sent me by friends more money than I could have named. I could sing, 

“What cheering words are those!

Their sweetness who can tell?

In time and to eternal days

‘Tis with the righteous well.”

Heavy affliction awaited us. Before I was quite well, my eldest daughter was taken ill, and became worse daily. In a few days she took to her bed, never to get up again. My wife said to the doctor, “I think it is a fever.” He said, “It is, and a very bad sort.” On the morrow her senses and hearing left her. She was in this state about six weeks, except for two hours one day. I cannot express the depth of trouble my wife and myself sank into. There was a thrill through my soul that this affliction would prove our destruction. I tried to pray to the Lord to restore her; but if not his will to do so, that the fever might not rage further. But in about a month, two more were taken. Poor creatures! They went to bed like lambs to the slaughter. I still kept trying to pray, but could not stay his hand; for in another month two more were taken ill, and then a little boy, the last of the sis at borne. This was a heart aching time. Two of these turned quite delirious for some time. The doctor was very kind and attentive. At one time there were; apparent hopes of our eldest daughter’s recovery; her senses and heaving became good again, perhaps the effect of a simple remedy we were advised to try. But in about nine days large lumps appeared upon her, and turned into wounds, which made her very weak and quite helpless to move her arm or foot. At the end of thirteen weeks’ affliction she died.

For about twelve weeks of this time, I kept up tolerably well, and was enabled to do the greater share of attending to our dear children at night and go to my work by day. The disease was such that no one could venture to come to ua, except my wife’s mother, who came in by day. But at length I was seized; my poor head felt as though it would fall asunder. I tied it up, and tried to work as long as I could. The doctor said we must fall on the parish; and in this time of need I was thankful for a parish, although I had before dreaded to be brought to it. Now the night work was all cast on my wife; and as I felt I was smitten, a hard, benumbed spirit came upon me. I could neither pray nor express the impenitent state I was in. Indeed, the hardness of my thoughts and feelings would not be fit to name; neither have I ever forgiven myself.

Our dear child at last died, rather unawares to us; but I got up immediately, and went up the street to call my mother-in-law. O the horror and blackness that camo over mo on account of my hardness! I sank into a despairing state of soul; I could not rest day or night. These draughts of wormwood and gall I have still in remembrance, and my soul is humbled in me. At length my incessant cry, day by day, was for mercy. I read through the Book of Job, and found no comfort. Then I borrowed Rusk’s “Fiery Trial,” but could get no comfort in reading it. Hymn 385 (Gadsby’s) was a little help; it so fitted into my feelings: “Hear, gracious God, a sinner’s cry,” &c.

During the time of our child’s affliction, we tried to say a little to her about her soul, and knelt down, and prayed for her. My wife one day heard her praying by herself for the Lord to make her a good girl and take her to heaven, in her simple words. Eleven days after, my next daughter died; she had been ill nine weeks. She had said, at times, she would soon be in heaven with Annie. Neither of us could attend their funerals. Another was expected to die, but the rest all gradually recovered; though the effects continued with some of them for years. My daughter had taken the disease from no one, as far as we know; neither did any one take it from us. I remember one day as I was walking down Lechlade, I felt I should be despised by all the town for my poverty and affliction; but as time rolled on, I found I was respected. The Lord also was pleased to incline our friends in various parts, as well as the Church people in the town, to show us much kindness by sending food and money; and I hope never to forget it, The disease affected my back, and caused a sensible contraction; so that for nearly two years I scarcely had a night’s rest free from pain.

My affliction of soul continued from Nov., the month my dear children died, to the next Oct., with the exception of a little relief at intervals. I felt if I had two whole worlds, I would have given them for mercy if that would obtain it; for my distress was such I was like a walking misery. One sweet time I had in hearing Mr. Godwin, at Alvescot. He was much tried while preaching, by the affliction of his first wife. O how the sweet words dropped into my soul! My head leant on the rail of the seat, and tears kept running down. I was much comforted; but afterwards I returned to my old place. 

During these days of bondage, sin, and guilt, my thoughts of attempting to speak in the Name of the Lord were all swept away; and I was very glad of it, for it was quite a release to my mind. I used inwardly to say that if this affliction were made of no other use, I was very thankful that that matter was decided. Glad I was I had said but little about it, and would rather have said nothing. This prayer suited me well: “O remember not against us former iniquities. Let thy tender mercies speedily prevent us; for we are brought very low.” So also other confessions of sin and prayers for mercy recorded in the Word of God. This day of adversity was truly a time of considering my ways.

In due time, as I was coming down from the field one evening with some potatoes in my wheel-barrow, the eyes of my mind were led to look on the left hand of the Lord Jesus Christ. The flames of torment that would swallow up the wicked, dying in their sins, were presented to me. I did not feel affrighted. Then I was led to look upwards; and in so doing I felt my ravished breast inspired by the Spirit of God. I could not refrain from giving vent to my feelings on the road. By this the souls of sinners were laid on my mind; first, of those that feared not God; next, of such as were trusting in their own works; together with the state of the poor, tried, and tempted children of God. Then such a spirit of willingness to speak fell upon me that I was not able to resist it any more than to create it. I hastened home to read the Scriptures. The 5th of Matthew was very sweet to me. This change was truly sensibly felt; for instead of darkness, it was light; instead of guilt, it was mercy; and instead of bondage, it was liberty.

This liberty could not be hidden. I felt it at home in family prayer and at the prayer-meetings. One day at my work, these words dropped into my soul: “O Naphtali, satisfied with favour, and full with the blessing of the Lord!” (Deut. 23:23.) Now my cup ran over, and I wanted to be in the open fields, where I could shout forth the praises of the Lord. Another time this passage came as dew: “And in blessing I will bless thee.” The effect was sweet and instructive to my mind. I began again to be strongly exercised about the ministry of the Word of the Lord, more or less, from day to day. I tried to lay it before the Lord in every shape and form, and begged he would direct me and show me his mind, be it what it might, and his will be done. I felt I was enabled to go to him with an open spirit in this thing.

One morning in Novombor, as I passed the market-place about six o’clock to my work, these words dropped into my mind: “Lovest thon me?” I felt it a very important question, and paused, and then answered, “Lord, I desire to love thee.” The words came, “Feed my lambs.” The effect was such that I burst into tears with a deep sense of my unworthiness and insufficiency, also the great, condescending goodness of the Lord. I sat weeping at my work for some time, but tried to hide it from my fellow-workmen. Truly this season of refreshing was very acceptable to me after so long a time of bondage and guilt.

But as literally the weeds grow fast in a showery season, as well as the corn, yea, sometimes to the overtopping of the corn; so I have no doubt that the weeds grew at this time, though unperceived by me.

Some time after this, as I was sitting in a friend’s house, another person came in. He asked me whether my mind was exercised about the ministry. I made no answer, for I did not know what to say. Then, looking at my other friend., he said, “I do not mean you; I mean Mr. C.” I owned it was, and that amidst all my other trials that was the greatest. He said, “We thought it was so.” I asked what led him to think so. He replied, “Your prayers.” I said I had felt if the friends’ hearts were open towards me I would try to say a little, as I felt it would be a release to my mind. He replied he believed they were open to hear me. This remark led me to say two or three words more, when all at once with his words he knocked me down. It was to my feelings like a man knocking down a calf. In a short time I went home to bed, but could not sleep. I lay and wept as if my heart would break. I will say no more about what passed; I felt desirous nothing more should be said about the matter, for I was very shy of a rumour going abroad that I had the preaching fever.

As time passed by I noticed that I was looked upon very coolly by some of our church; but I strove not to show that I noticed it. These words were a help to me: “Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee.” (Ps. 38:9).

At this time we were very poor. The Lord opened a door in providence by a Christian lady living in a neighbouring hamlet. He inclined her to allow us 2s. 6d. a week for two months. We were ofttimes sunk down by affliction, and some of our children laid prostrate from the effects of the fever. At tho end of two months she added two more months, and also gave us clothes, and sometimes a piece of meat. O how many, many times during those days was my soul melted down, and my heart filled with the goodness of the Lord till my cup ran over. It was sweet to live upon the providence of God. What quietness was felt within while feelingly leaning upon his almighty arm! One circumstance I must not pass over. I had often been afraid one of my eldest boys would be taken ill and obliged to come home. At length my boy Ephraim was brought home ill; and it was feared he was in consumption. He was at home seven weeks; but the Lord was very gracious in causing extra streams to run during the time. One day his mother was in her room mourning because she had not anything suitable to give him, when a person came to the door and left 5s. from the same lady. “When I came home and she told me of it, we both wept sweetly under the felt goodness of the Lord.

Amid these things my mind was greatly exercised about the important work of speaking in the Name of the Lord. It became such a trial and mystery lo me that at times I lost myself, and stood like a fixed statue, full of thought. I began to conclude that if it was not of the Lord I did not know whence it came; and that if it was wrong my religion was wrong also. I felt heavily weighed down, and sank into a low, desponding state of soul; so that my confidence was cast away, and I felt my foot at times on the borders of despair. My soul refused to be comforted, lest it should prove false; and sometimes I had much bitterness in my spirit. I used to say a little to my wife about it, but to no other creature.

After wading in this trouble, as well as others, for three years and a half, I became afflicted with pain in the chest and through the left shoulder. After 10 o’clock in the morning it continued all day; and so it went on for about two months. Then I had some relief, but in the following spring it returned again; and at the same time my father-in-law, with whom I was employed, was taken ill, and the illness terminated in his death. He left me the good-will of his little business, and the stock I was to have at a valuation if I thought well. I had not a shilling of my own, and I took it on credit. But my affliction kept increasing, and I was weak and bent together in pain. I then asked a doctor his opinion, as my wife was afraid it was consumption. He pronounced my lungs to be as good as any one’s; and he said it was the large muscle that crossed the chest that was over strained by exertion, and gave me all the pain. Now I was not able to work much, and I feared my few things would be sold for debt. I cannot express the pain and discouragement I felt in this new undertaking. I cried out, “O that I had never taken the business!” So it continued for three months.

One evening I called at a friend’s house, where a young Christain lady was visiting. When I left she followed me to the door, and put a half-sovereign in my hand. I thanked her feelingly, and gave it to my wife, and she spent it upon me in extras to eat. I believe this did me good; and I became able to work.

The following January, on a Tuesday evening, my wife went to help the woman to finish some washing, and brought on a strain, which ended in death at four o’clock. Thus was I suddenly bereaved of a good and loving wife, and nine children of a kind mother. Destruction at times sounded in my ears. But I must leave my readers to judge of my care and trouble that followed this trying bereavement. One day in the midst of anguish of spirit these words dropped into my mind with a little comfort: ” Shall we receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil?” (Job. 2:10.)

My dear wife had been a woman of much trial. What with herself as a sinner, her hard work, and weak body, and trying to keep up payments with our small pittance, Satan would at times take advantage and harass her, even once tempting her to put an end to her life. It appeared that one Saturday night was the time appointed. I went home from my work about nine o’clock, not knowing anything about her state of mind. She said she should not have done before midnight, and I had better go to bed and not sit up for her. But as I had some work to do for my boy Tom, I said I would sit down and work an hour; and when at it, I kept on. She reminded me in an hour’s time to go to bed, but I said, “I will keep on now till you have done.” When midnight came she said, “It appears you do not mean to go to bed before me; so we may as well leave off.” Wo did so, and went to bed. Shortly after, a Mr. E. came to preach in a cottage at Lechlade. He was led to speak of Satan’s power to tempt some poor creatures to commit suicide, and his sermon was made a means of delivering her mind. By this I discovered the snare in which her soul had been.

After living a widower for a year, I felt my need of a help-meet to assist me and look after my family. The Lord in his providence gave me another good wife; and he has spared us to live together over twenty years. Again attacks of pain in my chest returned, and lasted from one month to three, being at times very violent, and very rebellious feelings would arise. I remember once thinking that if some one would open my door and shoot me dead, it would be a favour. When the pain was easier, I lamented and wept and repented. O how many of these seasons have I passed through! The doctor said that unless a change took place I could not live two months, for I was nearly bloodless; and he ordered an egg to be beaten up in half a tumbler of port wine, and taken twice a day. However, these attacks continued more or less for over ten years.

During these years some thoughts arose at times about the past exercises of my mind concerning the ministry. It appeared such a mystery, with nothing to encourage the thought of it. Yet one evening I felt it so near to me that I said inwardly I would give up all for it. As time passed by an excise officer came to live at Lechlade. He was the means of a room being taken for reading and prayer, and the expenses were paid by subscription. A supply was obtained at times. As Alvescot, where we stood members, was six miles distant, we joined in the undertaking. In course of time, however, I felt weary of it, by reason of weariness in the things of God. But just as I was thinking it would be a release if it were given up, I felt a check upon my spirit, and these words dropped into my mind with considerable force: “Be ye steadfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” They sounded repeatedly, and had great effect upon me. I said, “What work, Lord?” A secret voice answered, “Prayer.” In half-an-hour I was wanting to be up in the room praying and in my spirit exhorting the brethren to be steadfast. From this time my mind had but little rest concerning speaking in the Name of the Lord. Yet as I had been bound as with withs by man so long, I thought my past exercises might have been only fleshly labour, which profiteth not. But let them be what they might, I was now quite unable to lay aside the thought. One day, heavily burdened, I cried, “O Lord, what shall I do?” An answer came inwardly like a sharp rebuke, saying, “Have not I told thee what to do?” This led me back fourteen years to the spot where I was crossing the market-place, as before related; and I felt stunned. A little while after, on account of the trial I felt, and its appearing to no purpose, my spirit became soured, and I said, “I’ll have nothing to do with it.” But again I was melted into contrition, and said in my heart, “If it be thy will that it should be so, I am willing to go, to stop a gap, whither thou seest fit. But thou must be all that is required in it.” Now I was more at rest. But it was a secret that lay between the Lord and my own soul.

A little after this, on a Sunday evening, I felt inclined to try and speak; but my fears were groat lest it should be wrong. On the other hand, if I did not, it seemed as if that would be wrong. These words came into my mind: “Be of good courage.” By this in the midst of trembling I began; and in about five minutes the fear of man was gone. At the end one or two said they felt a little touch of power.

About four days after, a most dreadful spirit arose within me, representing I should lose a good part of my best work through it, and perhaps at length be burnt at the stake. O how low I sank, the deep relentings that ever I had attempted to speak, and the sighs and groans of my spirit by reason of the disquietude of my heart! It lasted about seven days and nights, as long as my eyes were open. But on Friday morning, in the second week, about five o’clock, my soul was sweetly liberated. This passage was brought afresh to my mind: “In meekness instructing them that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give thorn repentance to the acknowledging of the truth” (2 Tim. 2:25); and the subject flowed into my understanding for about an hour. I felt now I must preach, for it is committed unto me.

The same morning, at 10 o’clock, a person called to tell me he had been talking to some of the friends, and they said that if I agreed I might speak in the room on the next two Sabbath evenings. I told him what I had felt, and added, “If you had come yesterday, I must have said no; but now, if the Lord will, I will try to speak at those times.”

When the Sabbath evening came, I trembled; but my eyes were kept looking to the Lord for help. I gave out the same words for a text that had come to me with comfort on the Friday, 2 Tim. 2:25, and felt free for about an hour. But in the following week I sank for fear I had preached my all; and having to try again the next Sunday, I was much cast down. When the time arrived, after the people had gone up into the room, I did not know how to raise courage to start; but I went. I named Matt. 5:5 for a text; and though I trust I had known what it was to possess a meek spirit, and truly I had known a sour one, I could say but very little, for bonds attended me, and so concluded.

Satan soon began to war against me dreadfully, so that my name and person began to be shunned by some; and as I could not cease from man, it seemed as though this trial would break my heart. But one day in the midst of it, I cried unto the Lord, “O Lord, do thou deliver me, and. bless me with thy precious Self!” A thought immediately dropped into my mind about the rest that remaineth, and the words came: “There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest.” (Job 3:17.) A blessed, sweet frame of soul was given me, and my eyes ran over with tears. I felt to rie humbly before the Lord for him to manage all for me. This was a comfort and strength to me. The effect lasted for days, and was very sweet. still as opposition and crosses increased, my nature kicked, for which i was sorry; and I thought if it were ten times as great I ought to bear it patiently.

A door was then opened, unknown to me, to preach at Highworth on the following Sunday evening. A friend came in and told me of it, saying he would take me there and bring me back. On the Saturday night I was lying on the bed in pain from my complaint, and could not attend to my business. But the time arrived, and my friend took me. This was the first time I went out to preach. My text was Ps. 34:17: “The righteous cry, and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.” Never since then have I had one attack of neuralgia.

A friend remarked a long time after that the Lord knew if he did not take it away I should not have been able to preach. Other doors soon opened; so that I had not a still Sabbath after this, except from illness. But O the labour of body and mind that came upon me! Sometimes I was not able to get to bed on a Saturday night till 12 o’clock, and was obliged to be up between 4 and 5 in the morning to be ready to start on my journey; and that in the winter, and all weathers, wind and wet. But my soul would cry to the Lord for strength, and that he would be pleased to Stay the winds for his poor servant’s sake. In the course of the day the Lord would condescend to put my soul in a worshipping frame, and the morning troubles passed away. How often, when returning home tired and “footsore, urid low in spirits, what painful tauntings wore inwardly felt: “See what thou hast brought thyself to through this preaching!” But I could do nothing with it; for if it was all wrong, I could not put it right, neither could I see any way out unless the Lord put a stop to the people inviting me. Instead of that, applications increased, and many testimonies were given of the word spoken being blessed; so that the poor and needy were comforted, and my soul encouraged. A dear old man of long standing in the truth once told me he had reason to bless God that he had opened my mouth to speak in his Name; and another who had sneered and ridiculed me was brought to hear me. He said to me one day, “Can’t you come oftener?” I heard afterwards he died a happy death.

Thus the Lord brought me through a hot fire, but I don’t know that it ever did me any real harm. And while the chief men of our church at Alvescot were consulting together what could be done with me, the Lord opened doors and brought me forth. I went on working hard at my trade on week-days and in the ministry on Sundays, year after year, till I became worn down; insomuch that I felt one or the other must be given up, or I should soon drop into the grave. I remember once coming to the conclusion to write to my friends to tell them I must give up preaching, when these words came rushing into my mind: “If these should hold their peace, the stones would cry out;” and I went out of my shop and wept.

I began to desire to live in a more central position, nearer the railway, that I might get to my places of supply more easily; but no way opened, neither could I take a house of myself. Just at that time I received two notes informing me of the death of Mr. B. Cowley, the leading deacon of the little cause at Fairford. The junior deacon had died the month before. My first feeling was to go over and see the bereaved widow, and I felt I could not leave the Fairford people now in their adverse state. While there one of the friends said to me, “Did you ever feel a leaning towards Fairford?” I related what had passed in my mind that morning on receiving the information of their loss; and from that time the matter moved onward. In the commencement of the following year, 1880, by their unanimous desire, I undertook the care of the little church, and through mercy we are moving on in unity of spirit.

The few things I have written have indeed been truly felt, yet sometimes they seem but an empty bubble; and though it is plain the outward man is decaying by reason of age and infirmity, still I find the sin of infidelity, with all the train of evils which the serpent sowed in the hearts of our first parents, is still alive in my sinful nature and not decaying; neither can anything short of the power of God well subdue the law of sin that wars in the members. Yet the power of the grace of God is such that at I trust at times I have felt its holy sceptre swayed through my whole man, bringing every thought into sweet subjection unto the obedience of Christ.

The room at Lechlade was at length given up. A great part of the people who met there and helped to support it had moved away. These things I felt trying; yet had it not been so, I might not have seen my way clear to leave. It had been a Bethel to my soul amid my sore troubles. Many times after attempting to speak there on a Sunday evening I have felt peaceful in my soul, and have gone to rest with the feeling that the few things which had been feebly spoken were pleasing in the sight of God, and that the substance of them in the heart would do for me and others to live and die by. Frequently when entering the room a reverential fear of God came over me, which made it a harder trial for me to leave; and I am convinced that some of those things which were trying at the time have worked together for my temporal and spiritual good.

“God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,

And rides upon the storm.”

John Cowley

May, 1882.