LETTER I.

MY DEAR FRIEND.

You

OU requeft the particulars of that change of which a few years ago I was the fubject. You need not be told that the religious experiences of fallible creatures, like every thing elfe that attends them, muft needs be marked. with imperfection; and that the account that can be given. of them on paper, after a lapfe of feveral years, must be fo in a still greater degree. I am willing, however, to comply with your requeft; and the rather because it may ferve to recal fome things which, in paffing over the mind, produce agreeable fenfations both of pain and pleasure.

My parents, as you may poffibly know, were diffenters, of the Calvinistic perfuafion. They were engaged in hufbandry, which occupation therefore I followed till the twentieth year of my age. I remember many of the fins of my childhood; among which were lying, curfing, and fwearing. It is true, as to the latter, it never became habitual. I had a dread upon my fpirits to fuch a degree, that when I uttered an oath, or an imprecation, it was by a kind of force put upon my feelings, and merely to appear manly, like other boys with whom I affociated. This being the cafe, when I came to be about ten years old, I entirely left it off, except that I fometimes dealt in a fort of minced oaths and imprecations, when my paffions were inflamed.

In the practice of telling lies I continued fome years longer; at length, however, I began to think this a mean vice, and accordingly left it off, except in cafes were I was under fome preffing temptation.

I think I must have been nearly fourteen years old before I began to have any ferious thoughts about futurity.The preaching under which I attended was not adapted to awaken my confcience, as the minifter had feldom any thing to fay except to believers; and what believing was I neither knew, nor greatly cared to know. I remember, however, about this time as I was walking alone, I put the queftion to myfelf, What is faith? There is much made of it, what is it? I could not tell; but fatisfied myfelf in thinking, it was not of immediate concern, and I fhould underfand it as I grew older.

Sometimes conviction has laid fast hold on me, and rendered me extremely unhappy. One winter evening, in particular, I went to a fmith's fhop, where a number of other boys fat round the fire. Prefently they began to fing vain fongs. This appeared to me fo much like revelling that I felt fomething within that would not fuffer me to join them; and while I fat filent, in rather an unpleafant muse, those words funk deep unto my mind, What dost thou here, Elijah? They had fuch an effect upon me that I immediately left the company; yet, fhocking to reflect upon, I walked away murmuring in my heart against God, that I could not be let alone, and fuffered to take my pleafure like other chil dren!

At other times I have been greatly affected by reading or thinking of the doctrines of Chriftianity. One day in particular I took up Mr. R. Erfkine's Gospel Sonnets, and opening upon a piece called A Gospel Catechism for young Christians: or, Christ all in all in our complete redemption, I read, and as I read I wept. Indeed I was almost overcome with weeping, fo interesting did the doctrine of eternal falvation appear to me yet, there being no radical change in my heart, thefe thoughts paffed away, and I was equally intent on the prrfuits of folly as heretofore.

Sometimes I felt a strange kind of regard towards good people, fuch of them efpecially as were familiar in their behaviour to young people, and would fometimes talk with me about religion. I ufed to wish I had many thousand pounds, that I might give fome of it to them, who were poor as to their worldly circumftances.

I was fometimes the fubject of fuch convictions and affections that I really thought myself a converted perfon; and lived under that delufion for fome years. The ground on which I refted this opinion was as follows:-One day as I was walking alone, I began to think seriously what would become of my poor foul! I felt myself the flave of fin.Till now I did not know but that I could repent at any time; but now I perceived that my heart was wicked, and that it was not in me to turn to God, or to break off my fins by righteoufnefs. I faw that if God would forgive me all the pait, and offer me the kingdom of heaven on the condition of giving up my wicked purfuits, I fhould not accept it. This conviction was accompanied with great depreffion of heart. I walked forrowfully along, repeating these words. Iniquity will be my ruin! Iniqnity will be my ruin! While pouring over my unhappy cafe, thofe words of the Apostle fuddenly occurred to my mind, Sin shall not have dominion.

over you: for ye are not under the law, but under grace. Now the fuggeftion of a text of scripture to the mind, and efpecially if it came with power, was generally confidered by religious people, with whom I occafionally affociated, as a promife coming immediately from God, I therefore fo understood it, and thought that God had thus revealed to me that I was in a state of falvation, and that therefore iniquity should not, as I had feared, be my ruin. The effect was, I was overcome with joy and tranfport. I fhed, I fuppofe, thousands of tears as I walked along, and feemed to feel myself as it were in a new world. It appeared to me that I hated my fins, and was refolved to forfake them. Thinking on my wicked courses I remember using those words of Paul, Shall I continue in sin that grace may abound? God forbid! I felt, or feemed to feel, the ftrongeft indignation at the thought. But, ftrange as it may appear, though my face that morning I believe was fwoln with weeping, yet before night all was gone and forgotten, and I returned to my former vices with as eager a guft as ever; nor do I remember that for more than half a year after it I had any ferious thoughts about the falvation of my foul.

About a year afterwards, however, I was again walking by myself, and began to reflect upon my courfe of life, particularly upon my former hopes and affections, and how I had fince forgotten them all, and returned to all my wicked ways. Instead of fin having no more dominion over me, I perceived that its dominion had been increased. For fome minutes I was greatly dejected, but was inftantly relieved by what I accounted another promife from God. These words were fuggefted to my mind, I have blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins. By this, as by the former, I was overcome with what I confidered as God's great love to me, and fhed I fuppofe thousands of tears, not of forrow, but of joy and gratitude. I now con. fidered myself as having been in a backsliding state, and that God had graciously restored me; though in truth I have every reason to think that the great deep of my heart's depravity had not yet been broken up, and that all my religion was mere tranfient impreffion, without any abiding principle. Amidst it all I had lived without prayer, and was never, that I recollect, induced to deny myfelf of one fin, when temptations were prefented. I now thought, however, furely I fhall be better for the time to come. But, alas! in a few days this alfo was forgotten, and I returned to my evil courfes with as much eagernefs as ever.

I now began to draw towards fixteen years of age, and as my powers and paffions ftrengthened, I was more and more addicted to evil: nor was I merely prompted by my own propenfities; for having formed connexions with other wicked young people, my progrefs in the way to death was thereby greatly accelerated. Being of an athletic frame, and of a daring fpirit, I was often engaged in fuch exercifes and exploits as, if the good hand of God had not preferved me, might have iffued in death. I alfo frequently engaged in games of hazard, which, though not to any great amount, yet were very bewitching to me, and tended greatly to corrupt my mind. Thefe, with various other evil courfes, had fo hardened my heart that I feldom thought of religion. Nay, I recollect that on a Lord's day evening about this time, when my parents were reading in the family, I was thamefully engaged with one of the fervants, playing idle tricks, though I took care not to be feen in them. Thefe things were nothing to me at that time; for my confcience, by reiterated acts of wickedness, had become seared as with a hot iron: they were heavy burdens however to me afterwards. But as I have now brought down my narrative to the period when I trust God began effectually to work upon my heart, I will leave that part to another opportunity, and for the present fubfcribe myself

Yours, affectionately,

A. B.

I

CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

LETTER II.

EMBRACE the earlieft opportunity of concluding the narrative which I began at your requeft. By the clofe of my lait, you would perceive at near fixteen years of age, I was, notwithstanding various convictions and tranfient affections, preffing on in a lamentable career of wickedness; but about this time my convictions revifited me and brought

on fuch a concern about my everlasting welfare, as iffued, I truft, in real converfion.

It was my common practice after the bufinefs of the day was over, to get into bad company in the evening; and when there, I indulged in fin without reftraint. But after perfifting in this courfe for a time, I began to be very uncafy, particularly in a morning when I first awaked. It was almost as common for me to be feized with keen remorfe at this hour, as it was to go into company in the evening. At first I began to make vows of reformation, and this for the moment would afford a little eafe; but as the tempta tions returned my vows were of no account. It was an en

lightened confcience only that was on the fide of God: my heart was ftill averfe to every thing fpiritual or holy. For feveral weeks I went on in this way; vowing, and breaking my vows; reflecting on myself for my evil conduct, and yet continually repeating it.

It was not now as heretofore my convictions followed me up clofely. I could not, as formerly, forget these things, and was therefore a poor miferable creature; like a drunkard, who caroufes in the evening, but mopes about the next day, like one half dead. One morning, as I was walking alone, I felt an uncommon load upon my heart. The remembrance of my fin, not only on the past evening, but for a long time back, the breach of my vows, and the shocking termination of my former hopes and affections, all uniting together, formed a burden which I knew not how to bear, The gnawing, of a guilty confcience, feemed to me a kind of hell within me. Nay, I really thought at the time, that this was the fire and brimstone of the bottomlefs pit, and that in me it was already kindled. I do not write in the language of exaggeration. I now know, that the fenfe which I then had of the evil of my fin, and the dreadfulnefs of God's righteous difpleasure against me on account of it, came very far fhort of truth; but yet they feemed more than I was able to fuftain. When I thought of my broken vows, they ferved to convince me that there was no truth in me, and that I was altogether wicked. I fubfcribed to the juftice of my doom, if I were fent to hell; and plainly faw that to hell I must go, unless I were faved of mere grace, and, as it were, in fpite of myfelf. I fenfibly perceived that if God were to forgive me all the past, I fhould again deftroy my foul, and that in a very little time. I never before felt myself fuch an odious and helpless finner. I feemed to have nothing about me that ought to excite the pity of God, or that I could reasonably expect fhould do fe; VOL. I.

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