into my heart. So great was my obstinacy and folly, that I would come out of church weeping, and with the next person I met, would ridicule the sermon that affected me; lest I should be thought or called A Methodist! I began, however, in my serious moments, to resolve again, and again, I would break off my sins by true repentance; and especially that I would dance no more. Yet time after time, I. was prevailed on by my carnal friends, and broke the promises I had made to my God.

Jan. 1, 1774, I was deeply wrought upon by a sermon preached on, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" And soon after under another, on the Epistle to the Church of Laodicea. Again, while Mr. Simpson preached on the New Birth, from John iii. 3, I saw, and felt, as I had never done before, that I must experience that Divine change, or perish. But I had still one great hindrance, which I have not yet mentioned, namely, a young person, for whom I had a sincere affection. He and two of his sisters, with whom also I had formed a strict intimacy from the death of my father, were my constant com. panions; and were more seriously disposed than any of the rest. However, I was sensible, if I renounced my pleasures, and became what God and my own conscience now required, I must, in the first place, give him up, and that fully ; or he would be the mean of drawing me back : for he was yet unawakened, though outwardly moral.

But I could not yet make this sacrifice.

Therefore, I continued to go to assemblies, though conscience bled; and often in the midst of the dance, I felt as miserable as a creature could be, with a sense of guilt, and fears of death and hell. Sometimes those words were applied, "It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks." And, indeed, so I felt it. Yet I would not acknowledge my unhappiness to any, but carried it off with the appearance of gaiety; and at the lest assembly I ever attended, never sat down the whole night: but danced till four o'clock in the morning. Soon after this, however, the Lord wrought a much deeper work upon my soul.

In April, 1774, on the Sunday before Easter, Mr. Simpson preached from John vi. 44, "No man can come unto me, except the Father which hath sent me, draw him." Explaining the draw. ings of the Father, he related his own experience, under the name of Eusebius, brought up in all moral duties, attendant on Church and Sacrament, and one who said many prayers. Yet when twenty-two years old, was deeply convinced he had never been a Christian :could then say feelingly, what he had often before repeated in words only, The remembrance of my sins is grievous unto me: the burden of them is intolerable." [All this sunk into my very soul; this was just my case.] "He mourned, and wept, and prayed! And one day as he was in prayer, and had such a view of his past sinfulness, and present guilt and pollution, as almost deprived him of all hope; the Lord suddenly removed his burden,

and spoke pardon and peace to his soul; so that he felt his sins were all forgiven." Lord, said I, if this is truth, (and I cannot disbelieve it,) never let me rest till I obtain a like blessing. He went on to observe the nature of this change, and the objections made in our day to this doctrine of the New Birth. One of these objections he dwelt upon, viz. "We are born again when baptized;" but proved if it were even so, we must still repent anew and be forgiven, since all have broken the baptismal vow. Then he appealed to each; Have you renounced the devil and all his works, the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, with every sinful desire?" while I could only plead guilty, guilty. "Have you never taken the name of God in vain?-Never profaned his sabbaths? Never set up idols in your heart? If you have done these things, you have broken the first four commandments of God." I pleaded guilty here also: for though, with respect to the third, I could not accuse myself of profanely swearing, or even naming my Maker in conversation as many do yet this prohibition also con. demned me, in having taken the name of God in vain, into my polluted lips in his house of worship; and appearing before men engaged in devotion, while my heart was wandering to the ends of the earth. As he passed through the rest of the commandments, I could still plead nothing but guilty. And when, in the application of his sermon, he asked, "Now, what think you of the state of your souls before God?" I felt myself, indeed, a lost, perish.

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ing, undone sinner: a rebel against repeated convictions and drawings; a rebel against light and knowledge, a condemned criminal by the law of God, who deserved to be sentenced to eternal pain!-I felt I had broken my baptismal vow; my confirmation vow; my sacramental Vows; and had no title to claim any mercy, any hope, any plea!-I wept aloud, so that all around me were amazed; nor was I any longer ashamed to own the cause. I went home, ran up stairs, and fell on my knees; and made à solemn vow to renounce and forsake all my sinful pleasures, and trifling companions.

I slept not that night; but arose early next morning, and, without telling my mother, took all my finery, high dressed caps, &c. &c. and ripped them all up; so that I could wear them no more. Then cut my hair short, that it might not be in my own power to have it dressed; and, in the most solemn manner, vowed never to dance again! I could do nothing now but bewail my own sinfulness, and cry for mercy. I could not eat, or sleep, or take any comfort. The curses throughout the whole Bible seemed pointed all at me; and I could not claim a single promise. I saw my whole life had been no. thing but sin and rebellion against my Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier; and I feared it was now too late to seek mercy.

Thus I continued till Good-Friday. My mo ther thought I was losing my senses, and all my friends endeavoured to comfort me in vain. After many conflicts and strong fears, I ventured, however, once more, to approach the

Lord's table: encouraged by these words, "A broken and a contrite heart, O God! thou wilt not despise." As Mr. Simpson was reading that sentence in the Communion service, "If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous; and he is the propitiation for our sins," a ray of Divine light and comfort was darted on my soul, and I cried, Lord Jesus, let me feel thou art the propitiation for my sins. I was enabled to believe, there was mercy for me; and I, even I, should be saved! I felt love to God spring up in my heart, and, in a measure, could rejoice in him, so that I would have given all the world to bave died that moment. But, alas, this was only for a short season! In the evening one of my cousins calling on me, who had been a witness to my late distress; I told her of the comfort I had received; and added, I am now not afraid to die. She immediately exclaimed, it would be great presumption to say so, for even Mr. Simpson, whom she believed the best man on earth, said, he deserved to go to hell. My joy was damped immediately; and Satan telling me I had deceived myself, I gave up my confidence, lost my peace, and became again very unhappy.

It had been well for me, if I had then known the Methodists; but I had none to instruct me. Yet my distress was not the same as before. I had now a ray of hope in God, that he would make me a new creature by grace: and those horrible and slavish fears of hell were removed. I felt my nature all depraved, and my soul full