My mother often made observations upon common occurrences, that caused deep and lasting impressions on my mind. Once when she was killing some fowls, their dying struggles excited my sympathy, even to weeping, and I asked why she killed them. "Dear child," said she, "fowls have to die for man, calves have to die for man, sheep have to die for man; but what is more, Jesus, the Savior of the world, has died for man, and soon we must die." At another time, she said; "have you ever observed the young sapling, how easily you can bend it to the ground?" I answered "Yes." She continued, "Have you also observed that when grown to be a tree, it will not bow, but will break first?” Again I answered “Yes;" and she said, "Learn instruction. Now in the morning of life, your heart, like the sapling, is tender, and may easily be turned to God; but when inured to crime and hardened by transgression, like the stubborn oak, it will not bow."

When I was nine years old, my father removed to the town of Junius, Seneca county, New York. The greater part of the time for more than a year after our removal, neglect of eternal things marked my conduct; yet, frequently, after joining my associates in play, such condemnation filled my soul, that I would resolve never more to engage in idle sports. And though the Spirit of God did not entirely forsake me, yet my resolutions were often broken, and these scenes of folly and sin against God were repeated. About this time, my brother Friend was converted to God. Serious impressions again returned. But the attachment to my childish plays and companions continued; and during the winter months, we appointed one evening in every week for diversion. For this, con-science sharply reproved me; but being unwilling to desist entirely, I proposed that a part of the time should be spent in learning the orthography of words. My proposal was acceded to, but still conscience was not satisfied, and I further proposed that we should commence our school with prayer. Some of my associates, observing they thought it would be well, requested me to address thethrone of grace; the request was granted, which so affected me, that I could no longer participate in their vanities; but for a time remained a spectator, and then feeling condemned for this, wholly forsook the meetings. Serious impressions again increased, and the fear that there was no mercy for me, that my case was hopeless, at times caused me keen distress. For weeks and months, I visited the place of secret prayer two or three times a day, till discouragement and unbelief prevailed on me, for a time, to desist. As with others who live in the wicked one, excuses for procrastination found way to my heart. The hope, that at some future, unknown time, a revival, or some other event would render seeking the Lord less difficult, made me again indifferent.

CHAPTER II.

An account of my conversion, with some other particulars till my connection with the Freewill Baptists.

me.

In the Autumn of 1816, when I was nearly eleven years old, an alarming occurrence loudly called my attention. While riding alone through a wood but a little distance from home, my life was much endangered by a sudden fall from a horse. Instantly the query rushed upon me, as if a voice from heaven had spoken and said, "Had your life here closed, where would your soul have been now?" Conscience answered, "It would have been in hell." I stood astonished and amazed. The recollection of my past life, of broken promises, and of the many times I had prayed, as I thought, earnestly, without finding relief, rushed upon me like a flood. The anguish of my soul was great, and tears gushed from my eyes. In vain did I regret my existence; in vain did I envy the reptiles of the earth their state. Having been taught that a part of mankind were elected to salvation and the rest passed by, with great bitterness, the exclamation burst from my bosom, “I am a reprobate; there is no mercy for me." Now did the sorrows of death compass me about, and the pains of hell got hold of Despair bound my soul with its cruel fetters. Nature itself wore a solemn gloom, and even the trees seemed to mourn, and the heavens to frown. Every ray of hope was gone, and the anguish of my soul was insupportable. "What shall I do? what shall I do?" was my cry; then a thought rushed into my mind, which in some measure relieved me. "Peradventure God can and will have mercy. Christ died for sinners, why not for me? If hell must be my portion, and I must finally perish, I will perish pleading for mercy." But now, the fate of former promises occurred to my mind; for in the hour of temptation my feelings had changed, and my strongest resolutions had failed. What security had Ï, that this resolution should not, in like manner fail? I felt jealous of my own heart; and this seemed an awful moment, on which my eternal destiny was poised. It appeared to me that heaven or hell, depended on the keeping, or not keeping of this resolution. And I felt unwilling to leave myself the least liberty for its violation, lest this dread liberty should be used to my eternal ruin. So falling upon my knees, and raising my hand towards heaven, I made oath unto God, saying, "As long as thou shalt give me life and ability, like Daniel, I will kneel and pray to thee thrice in a day, even though my years should be lengthened to threescore and ten, and hell be my doom at last." I arose; my tears

ceased; distress and anxiety were fled; and though the darkness of night veiled the earth, yet nature assumed a new aspect. All that met my sight, praised God, and my heart was constrained to join the theme. Setting out for home, a sudden rustling among the trees reminded me that those forests were inhabited by beasts of prey; but it excited no timidity as usual, neither did it cause me to make haste; and now, for the first time, I was willing to die. Something whispered, "How is this? you are not a Christian." "True," was my reply, "but the Judge of all the earth will do right." Such a sense of his justice and goodness filled my soul, that with sweet composure, I felt to commit my all to Him, and thus was quiet from fear of evil.

Now to fulfill my oath required no effort, for it seemed that my eternal destiny depended upon its performance. My constant prayer was, that my soul might be born of the Spirit; but reflections on my past life, the just and holy nature of God, who cannot look on sin with the least allowance, no longer caused my heart to feel condemnation for sin, or to dread his vengeance. I read the threatenings of God's word-they moved me not. I brought to view the pains of hell-my soul rejoiced and was happy. This seemed to me very wrong, and thought I, Christians may rejoice, but not sinners. I was now distressed with fears that a state of insensibility was taking possession of my heart; for I labored to feel again my former load of guilt, and constantly prayed that conviction might return, but in vain. Heaven seemed deaf to my entreaties; and while thus praying, my heart seemed so hard, that dreadful fears seized me, lest conviction had ceased forever; yet so sacred appeared my oath, that not the least temptation to violate it troubled my thoughts. Once when bowed before the Lord in secret, all recollections except of the solemn vow, fled from my memory; and not an idea or a word occurring to mind, the fearful expectation was excited, that I should be compelled to rise without offering a single petition to Heaven. But finally the words of the publican," God be merciful to me a sinner," came to my recollection, and were as soon repeated. Then I arose and returned, weeping, because of the hardness of my heart. Again, while praying, I used every effort to picture to my view the horrors of the burning world, and bring to my soul a feeling sense of the agonizing pains of the damned; but instead of this, my soul was filled with joy, and the exclamation, " Glory to God!" burst from my lips. Then, for the first time, the thought was suggested, that possibly God had already forgiven all.

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Though my opportunity at school had been small, I had fortunately succeeded in learning to read a little, yet not without spelling many of the words. My anxiety to become acquainted with

the Scriptures, was very great. Yet, as my parents were poor
and in a new country, we had to endure many privations. Gen-
erally, labor occupied all my time during the day, and it being dif-
ficult for us to obtain candles, I resorted to the expedient of climb-
ing trees to procure the bark of the hickory, which burns with
much flame; and by the light of this fire, I commenced reading
the Bible, with anxious interest and a prayerful heart, frequently
continuing my studies two or three hours after the family had re-
tired to rest. As my acquaintance with the experience and evi-
dences of the Christian increased, the conviction gradually settled,
in my mind, after an examination of my own heart, that one poor
and unworthy as myself, might claim the rich and precious prom-
ises of the gospel. Then again doubts and fears pained me, lest I
should build upon a false hope, and finally perish. My prayer to
God was,
"If I have received remission of sins, grant unto me an
evidence of the same, and forbid that I should trust in anything
short of that effectual change, which alone can prepare the soul
for the pure joys of the heavenly world." My mind continued
thus exercised in supplication, until, though slow of heart to believe,
a partial witness of having experienced regeneration, gladdened my
heart, and caused me to exclaim, with the angels, "Over Judah's
hallowed plain," "Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace,
and good will toward men."

The period from my consecrating myself to God by oath till this time, was eighteen months. Soon after, in a conference meeting of the Calvinistic Baptists, I arose for the first time, repeated a hymn that rested with some weight on my mind, and then sat down. Some were surprised, for as yet nothing had escaped my lips, respecting my state of mind. The deacon asked me if I had experienced a change of heart. I was embarrassed, fearing to say that I had, or had not; but after a short pause, I answered, I do not know." He then remarked, that he had observed many in childhood commence apparently a religious course; but that it had given him little satisfaction, as they had generally turned to the world in a short time, and when arrived at manhood, they had become the worst of men. His words sunk deep into my heart, and, with my own trials and fears, shook my confidence. Doubts, like a flood, rushed again upon me; for I thought, were I a Christian, surely they would take me by the hand and gently lead me in the way. But, being unwilling to give up heaven, I continued more fervent in prayer, constantly asking of the Lord wisdom, patience and humility, beseeching him to keep me from deception and false hopes. Heaven lent a gracious ear, and instead of sinking under trials, my faith was increased, and my hope so confirmed, that not a doubt remained. And I thought frequently, though the world

4

should dispute, I could but believe Heaven had bestowed the "pearl of great price." When a few weeks had passed, I arose in a meeting, after hearing the sermon, and confessed the grace of God, declaring my conviction, that by the same, my soul had been "redeemed from among men." Returning home, great peace gladdened my heart. My faith became more settled, and, at times, my joy seemed to be full. I had always supposed that a change of heart was accompanied with some outward wonder; that the Savior or an angel would appear in the heavens; or some sudden shock, as of electricity, would for an instant cause pain of body. And when Jesus, in a still small voice, removed my guilt and filled my soul with peace and joy, experience was so opposite to my expectation, that it often seemed impossible, that it could be a saving change, which thus caused me to rejoice and love the humble saints.

One rule given in the word of God, whereby we may know that we have passed from death unto life, is, love to the brethren. This witness is plain; and when we have certain evidence that our attachment to the saints is peculiar to their Christian character, and proportionate to the degree of holiness they possess, then we may be sure that we have been accepted of the Lord. The Christian need not remain in doubts, darkness and tempests, but may come to the faith of assurance; not by waiting for God to work miracles for his confirmation, but by searching the Scripture evidences, proving his own heart, and constantly bearing the cross. When Naaman, the Syrian, came to the prophet of Israel, he supposed that some great thing would be wrought visibly, to effect a cure of his leprosy. Thus, many have expected that regeneration should effect some change in nature, or that some visible wonder, rather than submission of heart and reconciliation to God, should give them evidence of salvation. And when a silent voice has removed their burden, and composure of soul, with love to God and his people, has succeeded, they have passed the time of their conversion without a witness of it; and though unable to find their former convictions and condemnation, they have neglected to take the cross or embrace the promises, and thus for years have walked in darkness, not knowing whither they went. Would such diligently search the Scriptures, examine their hearts and try their spirit, they would learn the nature and evidence of a saving change, and thereby know, as well as Paul," If their earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, they have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens ;" and instead of continuing babes in knowledge, they would grow to the stature of men and women in Christ Jesus.