credit to the Chriftian Revelation, but could not. My Rea fon leaned to the wrong fide, and involved me in endless perplexities. I likewife endeavoured to fortify myself with ftronger arguments and firmer refolutions against my evil tempers; for fince I could not be a Chriftian, I wifhed however to be a good moral Heathen. Internal anguifh frequently compelled me to fupplicate the Divine Being for mercy and truth; I feldom gave over till my heart was melted, and I felt fomething of God's prefence. But I retained those gracious impreffions only for a fhort time.

Being employed in abridging and printing the Life of Eugene Arum, who was hung in chains at Knaresborough, for murder, I observed that by intense application he attained to a prodigious knowledge in the Sciences and Languages. I was fo engaged with this account, that I determined on the same acquifitions: vainly imagining, that as I had the defire, fo I had the capacity to learn every thing. While I was mufing upon these matters, and fixing the plan for my future proceedings, the following thoughts fastened upon my mind, and broke in pieces all my fchemes. "The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. What did this man's wifdom profit him? It did not fave him from being a thief, and a murderer; no, nor from attempting even his own life. True Wisdom is foolishness with men. He that will be wife, muft first become. a fool, that he may be wife!" I was like a inan awakened out of fleep. I was aftonifhed. I felt myfelf wrong. I was confcious I had been pursuing a vain fhadow; and that God only could direct me into the right path. I therefore applied to him with earneft importunity, intreating him to shew me the true way to happiness; which I was determined to follow, however difficult or dangerous.

Juft at this time a work of grace broke out in the village where I was born, through the labours of a perfon remarkably zealous for the caufe of God. My mother, in particular, was deeply convinced of the Truth, which the foon expe

rienced,

rienced, and retained the life and power thereof to her dying day. She was much concerned for me, hoping if I could be brought among religious perfons, I should, likewife, foon be convinced. She therefore, by an acquaintance, intreated me to converfe with the Methodifts. I anfwered, "If my Mother defires it, I will vifit them with all my heart." The firft time I entered a Methodift's houfe, they went to prayer with me and for me, a confiderable time. I looked upon them as well-meaning, ignorant people, and thought no more about the matter. In a few days they defired I would come and fee them again. Confidering it was my Mother's request, I went, without hefitation. I found four or five perfons in the houfe, with whom I difputed about Religion for fome hours, till I had fairly wearied them. They laboured to convince me, that I was a finner, and in danger of eternal death, if I did not repent and return to God. Thefe were fubje&ts I had no kind of idea of; and as their arguments were only supported by Scripture, for which I had very little regard, all they faid made not the leaft impreffion.

As I was about to withdraw, not a little elevated with my imaginary victory, one of the company defired to ask me a few questions, the firft was, "Are you happy ?" My countenance inftantly fell, and I anfwered from the dictates of my confcience, "No:" fhe then enquired, if I was not defirous of finding happiness? I replied, it had been my pursuit ever fince I could remember; that I was willing to obtain it on any terms, and that I had fought for it every way I could think of, but in vain. She then fhewed me the true way of obtaining the happiness I wanted, alluring me if I fought the Lord with all my heart I fhould certainly find in him that peace and pleasure which the world could not beftow. Every word funk deep into my mind; and from that moment I never loft my convictions, nor my refolution to be truly devoted to God.

VOL. V.

K

I im

I immediately broke off all connection with my companions; threw my useless books into the fire; and fought the Lord with all my might. I foon difcovered the importance of the Scriptures; that there was no other Revelation of the Divine will to mankind; that I must credit the truths contained therein, however oppofite they appeared to my own vitiated Reafon. I found my Reafon had been deceived and corrupted by the fuggeftions of an enemy, and that I could truft it no more, till it was renewed by grace: that my memory was filled with a train of falfe ideas, every moment presenting themselves, and leading me from God; and that my underftanding was totally dark, till divine illumination fhould vifit me.

Reading Mr. Hervey's Dialogues, this light fhone upon me, and I was much delighted with the difcovery of the divinity of Chrift, and the atonement which he made for finners. About this time I heard Mr. Fugill preach; his difcourfe was fuited to one in my flate, and the power of my evil reasonings was fufpended while he defcribed the work of grace in the foul; I faw, the way of Juftification and full Sanctification fo clearly, that I could trace the path as if it had been a road delineated in a map.

The next difcovery I had was the hardness of my heart; this called off my attention from every thing elle: neither fears nor joys, heaven nor hell, made any impreffion on it: I often thought that Satan himfelf could not poflibly have a more obdurate heart. I found it was full of Pride, Ambition, Anger, evil Defire, Unbelief, and every thing that was vile and vain. Being invited to join the Society, I gladly embraced the opportunity, and found much encouragement to feek the Lord, notwithstanding all the wretchednefs I felt in myfelf.

Attending to the experience of the people, I observed that almost all of them, during the time of conviction, were exercifed with horrible fears and terrors; and thence I con

cluded,

cluded, it was neceffary I fhould have the fame. For at that time I did not know, that frequently, thofe diftracting terrors were from the Enemy, in order to drive the foul into defpair. I therefore used every method to bring myself under dreadful apprehenfions: hoping this would break my ftubborn heart: but I could never find that kind of experience. After several weeks ftruggling with this obduracy, at laft I refigned myself to the Lord, when he was pleafed to regard my diftrefs; and while W. Brammah was at prayer, the foftening power of grace defcended and removed the ftony heart.

I now found a great change in my mind, but it was not compleat; for I had no confcioufnefs of the pardon of fin, which I was convinced was the privilege of the children of God: therefore I could not conclude myself juflified: however, I began to feek for that blefling with all diligence: many difficulties occured in the way. The old train of pernicious ideas continually prefented themfelves: I could not meditate a moment without finking into Deifm: and I was equally embarraffed with the doctrine of predeftination. Indeed their connection feemed infeparable; I could not by any means disjoin one from the other. And I repeatedly found that the moment I fuffered my mind to embrace either of them, I loft fight of God, and plunged into blackness of darknefs. The wretchedness I then felt was infupportable, accompanied with fuggeftions to blafpheme, or to embrace. Atheism. After many fore conflicts, the Lord fhewed me at path by which I might efcape; and that was by ftaying my mind upon him, and ceafing from thefe reafonings. This I found was a fafe, though painful path: it equally mortified my proud reason, and vain imaginations. While gracious. promises occurred, and encouraged me to follow on to know the Lord. Now I began to look up for the pardon of fin; I faw that it was purchased by Chrift, and that God gave it freely; that no works or fufferings of mine, could in the leaft degree merit this bleffing; but that it was to be received by Faith.

But here again I was greatly embarraffed; the Scriptures univerfally elified that I must believe or perifh; my friends were continually urging me to believe, and I fhould be faved. Upon clofe examination I found that I did believe every truth in the Bible; yet this did not bring a fenfe of Juftification. And I durft not think that God was reconciled to me, when I was confcious of the contrary. But the Lord fon brought me out of this dilemma, by fhewing me, that to forgive was his prerogative; and to believe, was my duty. This believing for falvation, I found was a diftin&t thing from believing I was faved; I found it implied, the lifting up of my heart to the Lord, in fervent prayer, looking to him with a fingle eye and steady aim; without evil reafonings or vain wanderings; cleaving to him with all my ftrength; cafting my foul upon his mercy, and depending upon his promises.

While I perfifted in this, I found I was faved from many evils, and the great bleffing I had in view was often near: fometimes I could lay hold on it for a moment, and found Peace and Joy; but I had been fo long habituated to Unbelief, that it often rose spontaneously and overturned all my Confolation. I had therefore to renew my efforts hourly, and to rife as speedy as poffible from every fall. In this exercise I continued about two months. Many times I loft my way by too fcrupuloufly regarding the Experience of others, yet I had never found any thing like Defpair, unless I wilfully reafoned myself into it: nor could I attain to any deep Terrors, which were too much infifted on as a necessary branch of Conviction. I likewife formed wrong ideas of Juftification: I wanted fome great work to be wrought upon me, that I might have fomething very remarkable to boast of. And therefore, when the Lord gently drew near, and manifefted his peace in a small degree, I rejected it with difpleasure. I even contended with the Lord, till he strongly impressed upon my mind thefe words, "I will bring the blind by a way that they know not; I will lead them in paths that they have

not