was possessed by Mr. Miller, in India, but how it came into his power we have no information. That which is the instrument of happiness, or glory, though, in itself, insignificant, becomes interesting to its possessor, and often the fond object of a superstitious affection. The horse which carried Alexander through his wars, was next to deified by that hero. Mr. Miller's violin had more than carried him to the height of his fame and popularity; it had been the companion of his wanderings in a foreign land; it had soothed his hours of dreariness on board ship; and it had given life to and made vocal, the deep, tender, enthusiastic, and melancholy emotions of his inmost soul. We have a particular reason for dwelling on this point, and it may as well be mentioned here, lest it should be thought our notice of the subject is disproportionate. The matter in question is this: When Mr. Miller was brought to feel the necessity of a perfect decision in religion, this instrument stood in his way: it was the idol of his heart; he was perfectly wedded to it; and he felt it to be a great snare. With almost unexampled firmness and resolution he laid it aside, though at the time he was esteemed the second, if not the first, performer in England, with the purpose never to touch it more; and he kept his resolution to the day of his death.

After his marriage, Mr. Miller's happiness and respectability as a man of the world, became complete. The feelings of both Mr. and Mrs. Miller, at this period, were so far wrought upon as not to allow them to live without attention to the forms, and as far as they knew, the rules of religion. Besides regularly attending the Sunday services at church, they were also constant at the morning and evening prayers on week-days. It is

obvious, that in Mr. Miller's line of life, and numerous exposures to gaiety and evil, a deep religious conviction must have rested on his mind, to lead him to the adoption of these regular habits. An interesting, and momentous struggle was now going on. At the ball, the concert, and the oratorio, Mr. Miller was still the centre of fashionable attraction; the leader of the gay and giddy dance, exercising the magic power which stimulated the multitude to their refined or jovial pleasures; and yet as a counteraction to all this, he was most constant and devout in the performance of his religious duties. These two antagonist habits could not long remain in collision-one or the other must conquer, and happily in this case, it was the religious. principle.

IN answer to inquiries respecting the means of his conversion, Mr. Miller informed the writer, that his first religious impressions were connected with his attendance on the services of the church. We have seen that a sense of misery, of an undefined nature, followed him in India, but was not understood by him at the time as a religious feeling. This state is often the precursor of conversion. A wretchedness which

imbitters existence itself, but of a perfectly crude and chaotic nature, unintelligible to the sufferer himself, is often, like the dark hours of night before the day dawns, made to rest on the soul by the discipline of Providence, and the visitations of the Spirit, preparatory to pardon and peace. When Mr. Miller had settled in life, and began to attend religious ordinances, this formless suffering assumed a definite

and religious shape. fallen and depraved nature, the requirements of the holy law of God, and the great doctrines of redemption; and this light showed him, what he little imagined before, that the true cause of his misery was his guilt and sin, and that the only remedy was in the privileges and grace of the gospel.

He obtained light as to his

In this state of inquiry and excitement, Mr. Miller became acquainted with the Methodists' society at Sheffield. Several incidents seem to have contributed to this. His residence being near Norfolk-street chapel, we are told, by some of the parties who knew him at the time, that he and Mrs. Miller were often attracted by the singing, and induced to attend the evening service; and, being an early riser, he also frequently stole in to hear the five o'clock preaching, having an inducement to this, by the circumstance, that at that hour, no one would observe him. In this state he seems to have continued for several months; regular at church, and an occasional attendant at the Methodist chapel :-the light, grace, and power of the Holy Spirit in the mean time continually increasing, so as to bring him nearer and nearer to the kingdom of God, till, by a series of remarkable circumstances, the hour of his decisive change finally came.

This important, and, indeed, greatest possible event in the life of man, stands connected with one of the most remarkable revivals of religion, which ever took place in Methodism. It commenced, there is good reason to conclude, at the very meeting where Mr. Miller was most powerfully arrested, and afterwards extended to Nottingham, Hull, Wakefield, Leeds, and, more or less, to most parts of the West Riding of

Yorkshire. We have heard many accounts of this extraordinary effusion of the Holy Spirit, and of the effects produced. A letter of the Rev. John Moon to Dr. Coke, dated Sheffield, August 22, 1794, is not only authentic, written upon the spot, and at the time, but also describes the meeting in question. We give this

entire.

It

"Rev. and dear Sir,-At our last quarterly love-feast, [in Sheffield,] the fire broke out in a most extraordinary and amazing manner. The meeting began with its usual calmness and order, and so continued till we were about to conclude. But while we thought hereon, a person came and requested our prayers for one in deep distress; and, soon after, the same request was repeated for a woman in the gallery. I then desired two or three of the local preachers to go and pray with her, intending to keep my place, and conduct the remaining part of the meeting with all possible decorum. being, however, a new thing, and to them not a little strange, they appeared reluctant to go. I knew not what to do; I hesitated for a moment ;-but the cry of distress still prevailing, I determined to sacrifice regularity to the season of usefulness which presented itself to me. I therefore went up into the gallery, and prayed with the afflicted person: but, I must acknowledge, so awkwardly did I enter on this important duty, through my great attachment to order, that I found very little access to the throne of grace; and, perhaps, as a punishment of my reluctance to engage, and my awkwardness in performing the work, I had not the answer of my prayer. When I concluded, one of the local preachers below, gave out a hymn and prayed.